


The Adventures of Harriet Potter: Year 3

by Kleinnak



Series: The Adventures of Harriet Potter [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Female Harry Potter, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 212,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleinnak/pseuds/Kleinnak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another attack on the innocent, an escaped convict, and the beginning of Harriet Potter's third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Who really is Sirius Black? What does he have to do with Sherrod Howe, enigmatic Headmaster of Rathlin School for the Arts (and Magic)? Who's the traitor Sirius Black speaks of? Time will tell...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lost Boy and the Envoy

“It was General William Tecumseh Sherman who spoke the words ‘War is cruelty.’ He was right.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
The hot sun beat down on the boy as he lay on the dusty ground. He had stumbled over an old barbed wire fence he hadn’t seen in the tall grass. He just lay there for a while, his eyes closed, trying to think. At least he was face down so the sun was beating on the back of his head and not his face. He didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t care. All he knew was he was away from… whomever he was running from.  
  
He couldn’t remember much; at least not why he was really running. He remembered his name, he remembered how old he was, and he remembered his life prior to yesterday, so that was good. Or did he?  
  
He was twelve, or was he thirteen already? No, he was twelve going on thirteen. His name was Jackson, but was that his first name, or his last name? He remembered his mother calling him Jackson, so it must be his first name. What was his last name then?  
  
He also remembered people calling him Lee. But then he heard people call his father Lee too. Maybe he was Lee Junior? Lee could be a first name or a last name, couldn’t it? But so could Jackson. But if his mother called him Jackson, and people called both him and his father Lee; that meant his name was most likely Jackson Lee, didn’t it?  
  
His head hurt and he groaned trying not to think so much anymore. He was very thirsty. He remembered being told how people couldn’t go very long without water. His mother was always the one who told him that every time he wanted to go out and play with the other kids. At least it wasn’t winter.  
  
Why was he running? What had happened? He remembered lots of lights, lots of screaming. He rolled onto his side and something heavy thudded to the ground behind him. He reached back for whatever it was instinctively. His arm felt a lot heavier than it normally did.  
  
He touched something cool and metal. That seemed strange. It was really hot, why would metal be cool? He took hold of it. The part he grabbed was thin and round, but there was a heavy bulk hanging off it, so heavy it was hard to pick up. He grunted as he pulled the object around in front of him, opening his eyes to look at it. He jumped in surprise and dropped it.  
  
It was a gun.  
  
Where had he got a gun? As he looked at it, he recognized it. It was his dad’s gun. It was an old-style revolver, well-worn from years of use. He reached down to his hip and felt a leather holster. That was why the gun was still cool; it had been in the holster out of the sun. He was remembering more now. His parents ran a re-enactment show, showing how people lived a hundred years ago out west. That was pretty much all the town did; re-enactments for tourists. And then _they_ came… the Secessionists…  
  
He buried his face in his hands. It was as if each new memory was a little knife stabbing into his brain. They came into the town and said they needed to hide. They were being chased. They needed food and water. Everyone was scared. No one knew what was going on. No one else was magical like the invaders were. He was the only wizard in town; a Muggle-born.  
  
 _Wizard_. _Muggle-born_. Those words stabbed him too. He curled up but winced again. It wasn’t his head hurting this time. It was his side. He reached down and felt a broken stick poking against him. He rolled over enough to pull it from his pocket and inspect it. It was a very straight, polished stick, snapped forcibly in half.  
  
 _Wand_ , he thought. Why was he calling it a wand? Oh that was right, he was a wizard. Wizards used wands. Not guns. But the wand was broken. That must have been why he took the gun. But how had his wand been broken?  
  
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” He screamed as loud as he could and dropped the wand, clamping his hands down tight over his eyes, as if he could block out the visions. The Unionists, they had come too. He remembered seeing their lines of trenches circling the town, cutting off all escape.  
  
The Secessionists had forced the townspeople all inside their homes while they prepared defences. According to one of the Secessionist soldiers, the regiment their unit belonged to had been ordered to attack some towns in the neighbouring state of North Dakota. The attack had got out of hand and the soldiers got carried away. The towns had been completely destroyed.  
  
He remembered hearing about that attack the previous summer. It had made him even more afraid. The soldiers in the hills surrounding them wanted revenge. The Secessionist soldiers barricading themselves in his town were all that was left of that regiment. First they had destroyed three towns on purpose, now they were trying to use Jackson’s town as a shield. He hated them.  
  
Jackson cried out again, this time in rage. He hated the Unionists too. Now he remembered why he had run. They had attacked. They had come at first light, wearing special armour and firing spells indiscriminately at anything that moved, lobbing things that looked like grenades which exploded with great force, tossing wreckage and people into the air. And that was all he remembered. He didn’t remember anything after that. He remembered the Unionists attacking, and then lying here in the dirt and tall grass, foot draped over a barbed wire fence with a broken wand and his dad’s revolver.  
  
He heard something in the distance. It was a rumbling. It seemed distant, but it was getting closer. It was more like he could feel it through the ground at this point. He wasn’t afraid this time; it was a very different rumbling than the attack. This was steady, as if hundreds of feet pounding the ground at once. It was a comforting sound somehow.  
  
He heard a whinny in the distance. Horses? There weren’t any wild horse herds around here, were there? Mustangs were further west, it couldn’t be. Maybe it was pronghorn, but these sounded heavier than pronghorn. And pronghorn didn’t whinny.  
  
There was a very heavy footstep nearby and he jumped a little in surprise, but didn’t move or look around.  
  
 _Human_?  
  
He jumped again. It had been a very deep voice, but somehow, he felt as though he could have just been imagining it. He groaned. Somehow he felt as though the voice was asking him the question.  
  
 _Yes, human._  
  
That was a different sounding voice. Or thought. He still wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. He was so tired and thirsty. _Yes, I’m human_ , he thought in reply. Suddenly, he heard a whole outbreak of thought-voices, but none of them seemed to be in response to his own thought.  
  
 _What’s it doing out here?_  
  
 _I don’t know… looks half dead. Should we leave it?_  
  
 _It’s a wizard, I see a wand._  
  
 _But I also see one of those Muggle killing things… I don’t like those things much…_  
  
 _Maybe we should just let nature take its course?_  
  
 _I’ll take the boy._  
  
There was a pause as Jackson tried to open his eyes. He managed it and found himself nose to nose with the long face of a chocolate-brown horse. Its eyes were alert, looking into his. The sunlight hurt his eyes and he closed them again.  
  
 _You’ll take the boy, Epeius? What will you do with it?_  
  
 _Take him back to his own kind._  
  
Jackson moaned. He heard the frustrated grunts of a horse lowering itself to its knees.  
  
 _Grab my mane, boy, pull yourself up._  
  
“Hurt…” Jackson finally managed to say. He was surprised he could understand himself, his voice came out sounding more like a croaking frog.  
  
 _I have a very strong mane, now come on… pull yourself on…_  
  
Jackson grunted and tried to lift a hand up to the horse’s neck. He felt its wide nose gently nudging his head.  
  
 _That’s it boy… you’ll get it. Take your time._  
  
Jackson pulled, and managed to get himself closer to the horse’s warm body. There was something very comforting about its presence.  
  
 _Where will you take it? We heard the attack this morning, can’t be many safe places for it to go_ , asked another deep voice. The voices still seemed to be in his head. They were so deep and booming they made the ground tremble.  
  
 _I will take him to the north-lands._  
  
 _That’s at least three hundred miles!_  
  
 _Am I an Areion, or not?_  
  
Jackson grunted and pulled himself up more onto the horse. He paused, looking back down at the ground. The revolver and broken wand were still there. He reached out a trembling hand.  
  
 _It’s going for the gun!_ A thought/voice whinnied in fright and anger. There was the sound of many stamping feet.  
  
 _Oh shut up, the lot of you, does he look like he’s about to shoot anyone?_ Now he was on the horse, Jackson became aware of something else. The horse’s body had trembled as he heard the voice. He was greeted by an insane thought. Was the horse actually talking?  
  
He felt the horse’s nose nudge him again.  
  
 _Go on boy._  
  
Jackson didn’t know why, but he nodded, and picked up the pistol. He stuck it into the holster, and then picked up the wand as well.  
  
 _I don’t know when or if I’ll be back… it’ll be a long time._  
  
 _You don’t have to do this, Epeius, there are closer towns._  
  
The horse’s shoulders moved strangely under him. Jackson was struck by another strange thought: had the horse just shrugged?  
  
It struggled to its feet but Jackson didn’t feel as though he was going to fall off. In fact, he felt more secure just draped over the horse’s back then he ever had sitting properly in a saddle on the horses back in town.  
  
 _Ready, boy?_  
  
Jackson’s tongue felt too heavy to talk. He simply nodded. The horse snorted and with a roaring thunder of hooves, the horse began to run. But this was different. This was nothing like any other horse he had ever ridden. Hills and fences and random trees whipped past him as the horse rocketed across the ground. Wind whipped his hair and he couldn’t keep his eyes open to look where they were going anymore.  
  
Exhaustion was taking over again. His eyelids felt heavier as he kept them closed. Slowly, despite riding on a horse running many times faster than a normal horse should, that could either talk through thoughts, or could actually speak, Jackson fell asleep.  
  


### * * * *

  
The clock ticked steadily on the wall. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic for Great Britain, glanced at it and drummed his fingers impatiently. He didn’t like waiting for people, particularly for meetings of this level of importance.  
  
In his head Fudge gave a mirthless snort of laughter. It was almost one year ago to the day that the troubles in America had first wound up in his office, when Dumbledore showed up with one of his professors, requesting he bring over a few handfuls of refugees to attend Hogwarts as a show of good faith. He should have suspected something like this would happen. Nothing with Dumbledore was ever as simple as it seemed.  
  
Fudge forced his face into a smile as he heard the soft knock on the door from his senior under-secretary, Dolores Umbridge.  
  
“Enter,” Fudge called.  
  
The door opened and Dolores beamed at Fudge and said in her most simpering voice. “Mister Solomon Kinney, Envoy from the Free State of North Dakota, to see you, Minister.”  
  
“Thank you, Dolores,” Fudge said and rose from his seat to greet Kinney as he stepped into the room. He did not look at all how Fudge had expected. He looked to be in his early thirties. He had long jet-black hair tied back into a ponytail. He was wearing a snow-white suit with a matching long white coat draped over his arm. He was also holding a white fedora and a shiny brown briefcase. He had a round face but a long thin nose and bright blue eyes.  
  
Kinney bowed deeply to Fudge before he rose and shook Fudge’s outstretched hand. “Good afternoon, Minister. Please accept my warmest gratitude for taking such a personal interest in this case. I must admit I had not expected to be given an audience with Britain’s Minister of Magic himself!”  
  
 _Well, he’s friendly enough_ , Fudge thought as he shook.  
  
“Well, it was on my orders, after all, that these children were brought to our nation and given quarter,” Fudge said trying to sound as casual as he could. “Needless to say it has become a personal interest of mine.”  
  
Fudge gestured to the chair in front of his desk and sat. Kinney sat as well and continued to smile pleasantly at Fudge.  
  
“So, if you could be so kind as to tell me the exact nature of your visit, I shall do my utmost to see how well we can accommodate your requests,” Fudge said. He monitored his tone closely as he spoke, trying to find the balance between pleasant and professional. He did not want to show his own hand just yet, not before he got Kinney to show his.  
  
“Well, it is a rather sticky matter, Minister,” Kinney said. “The problem, it seems, is some children who have been sent here have family back home who would like them back.”  
  
Fudge raised his eyebrows. “Indeed?”  
  
“Indeed, yes, Minister,” Kinney said.  
  
“Do you have a list of the students in question?” Fudge asked.  
  
Kinney’s eyes narrowed but Fudge didn’t change his expression. Fudge was hard pressed to hide his smile, but he managed it. _So, you don’t like me calling them students and laying my claim on them, do you_? Fudge thought as he leaned forward.  
  
“Of course, Minister,” Kinney said and opened the briefcase. He pulled out a sheet of parchment and handed it to Fudge.  
  
Fudge took the sheet and leaned back in his chair. He pulled out his reading glasses and put them on, making a show of reading the list thoroughly. Despite trying to keep his cool exterior, Fudge was having trouble as he processed the names.  
  
  
 _Megan Esther Eastman  
Tori Alice Hoffman  
Adele Ladybird Jackson  
Benjamin Thomas Jackson  
Mable Ladybird Jackson  
Avery Anne McGee  
Ellery Anne McGee  
Ari Elizabeth Miller  
Peyton Holly Riseman  
Kaitlyn Marie Tyler  
Kenley Rose Tyler_  
  
  
 _So that’s the game, is it_? Fudge thought.  
  
“Well, goodness there does seem to have been a few, doesn’t there?” Fudge said, sounding incredulous. “Though I suppose in the panic over such an attack mistakes most certainly could have—”  
  
“Well they’re not all really mistakes, Minister,” Kinney said pleasantly. “Many of these poor children did lose their parents in the attacks, but they do have other family that would like to see them returned.”  
  
Fudge nodded, looking as though he was thinking hard. He wanted to make Kinney sweat now. He decided to test him.  
  
“Yes, I imagine so… the Johnsons for instance…” Fudge said tapping on the names of the three Jackson children.  
  
Kinney’s eyes narrowed. “Jacksons,” he said flatly.  
  
 _Well, you passed that test, but you still failed the class_ , Fudge thought.  
  
“The thing is… there’s a distinct problem that I see with this list,” Fudge said. He removed his glasses and laid the list on the table, tapping it with a finger.  
  
“I assure you, Minister, the list is perfectly accurate,” Kinney said.  
  
Fudge sighed, “Oh I’m sure it’s perfectly accurate from your point of view, Mister Kinney. However, from my point of view there are several problems with this list,” he said gravely. “The first, it was clearly compiled by someone with an agenda. And not an agenda I approve of. The second is that it was compiled by someone who clearly believes my staff, including myself, to be completely incompetent.”  
  
Kinney’s face turned to stone as Fudge picked up the list again. “ _Kaitlyn and Kenley Tyler_ … the poor dears… must have lost everything mustn’t they? Never mind the fact I have personally spoken with their still very much alive parents. Charming folk, Muggles you know? And I believe at this very moment they are touring Unionist states speaking out against the Secessionist states aren’t they?”  
  
Kinney again gave no reaction, but to Fudge that was an even bigger indicator he had Kinney caught than if he had reacted. Kinney clearly knew he was caught, what more was there for him to do or say?  
  
“The really amusing one, which was the biggest give-away, by the way, was the inclusion of Miss Hoffman,” Fudge went on setting the parchment back down on the desk and sliding it across to Kinney. “Really, did you think I wouldn’t remember the name of the mayor of Rollen, one of the three towns destroyed that summer? The man who led all those poor people to safety?”  
  
Kinney’s face still looked as though it was made of stone as he reached up and took the parchment. He simply placed it back inside his briefcase and closed it with a snap.  
  
“I’ll give you credit on your homework though, slipping in Miss Riseman. I suppose she was an attempt to give the list credibility?” Fudge asked, looking at Kinney shrewdly. “Yes, slipping in an orphan was a nice touch, except per _my_ information, her parents abandoned her at the age of seven when she first began to show magical powers and were informed of her true nature as a witch. As a result, despite being fully adopted and cared for since then by the Riseman family, the poor dear has had serious trust issues as I have been told by the Hogwarts matron. The Risemans, incidentally, are in one of your camps that we keep hearing about, is that correct?”  
  
The only movement Kinney made was to narrow his eyes further. “The Jacksons were a nice touch as well, weren’t they?” Fudge added. “Family originally from Texas I believe? Had the list just been them I may have been inclined to believe you.”  
  
Fudge leaned forward on his desk once more, studying Kinney. “What are you really after? To silence these families? Blackmail? Con us into turning these children over to your custody so you can hold them hostage? Kill them as a threat to others who may attempt to follow their parents’ lead maybe? Clever, but not clever enough.”  
  
Kinney made to rise from his chair but Fudge glared. “You will remain in your seat until I dismiss you, Mister Kinney,” Fudge barked.  
  
Kinney sat again.  
  
“I do not take kindly to these sorts of actions, Mister Kinney. Nor do I take kindly to being thought so low of. You should have suspected something the moment I requested you speak to me on this matter personally, rather than a lower office.”  
  
Fudge rose from his seat, leaning down on his desk to look down on Kinney. “I will permit you to leave our shores back to your _country_ just this once, Mister Kinney. Should I, or any of my staff, hear of you being seen in this country again, it will not end well for you.”  
  
Kinney did not look intimidated. “Very well then, Minister, our business is concluded.”  
  
“Very good,” Fudge said, still leaning down over Kinney. “Auror John Dawlish will accompany you on your way out of our country. I’m sure you understand.”  
  
“Of course, Minister,” Kinney said. He rose and put on his hat.  
  
Almost on cue, the door to the office opened and Dawlish stepped inside.  
  
“Thank you, Dawlish,” Fudge said.  
  
Dawlish nodded. “At your service, Minister. Come, Mister Kinney, your flight awaits.”  
  
Kinney turned. He walked to the door but paused on the threshold. “One last thing, Minister?”  
  
Fudge didn’t react, just kept looking at Kinney.  
  
“Since my side fired first, you may think you’re on the right side, supporting the Unionists,” Kinney said. He opened his briefcase one more time and drew out a newspaper. He tossed it onto Fudge’s desk. “But maybe you’ll think more carefully now?”  
  
He stepped from Fudge’s office and Dawlish closed the door after them. Fudge finally sat down and looked at the newspaper on his desk. The headline made his jaw clench.  
  
  


_Massacre! Hundreds dead! Unionist Forces Slaughter Innocent Muggles!_

  
  
Fudge sighed. What had Dumbledore really got him into?  
  
“Well done, Minister,” a voice said from Fudge’s fireplace. Fudge closed his eyes.  
  
“Thank you, Howe, for alerting me,” Fudge said. He looked over to see the trim figure of Sherrod Howe rising from one of Fudge’s high-backed armchairs by his fireplace where he had been sitting and listening in.  
  
“But of course, Minister,” Howe said striding towards Fudge’s desk.  
  
Fudge held up the newspaper for him.  
  
“I hope you and Dumbledore know what you’re doing getting wrapped up in this?” Fudge asked.  
  
Howe took the paper and read the headline as well. “Funny how that works, isn’t it?”  
  
“What?” Fudge asked frowning.  
  
“Secessionists attack three Unionist towns, destroy them all, kill thousands, and the papers treat it as though it was bound to happen. Unionist forces attack a town of a couple hundred and suddenly it’s a catastrophe. Everyone wants to stick up for the underdog, I guess,” Howe said dropping the paper back on Fudge’s desk.  
  
“That’s not the point, Howe,” Fudge snapped. “I was on the side of the victims, now I’m on the side of the retaliators who killed a town full of Muggles.”  
  
Howe looked at Fudge disapproving. “This is a war, Fudge, people die… you should remember that.”  
  
Fudge glowered. “True…”  
  
Howe picked up the paper again and perused the article. “Lot left out of this… the unit that was in the town was the 47th… the same unit that attacked Rollen, Belview and St James… apparently they commandeered the town as a last line of defence against the Unionist forces pursuing them.”  
  
Fudge glowered at Howe as Howe replaced the newspaper on the desk. He hated how Howe always knew so much more than he did. If possible, Howe was worse about it than Dumbledore. And that was saying something.  
  
“Well… still… I’ll have to answer for this to the _Prophet_ tomorrow… ‘How can you throw in your lot with those barbarians?’” Fudge said. “Rita Skeeter will be beside herself with delight.”  
  
He sighed. “All the same, thank you. As much as I am… we shall say _displeased_ with this recent turn of events,” Fudge said, tapping the article. “I was not about to allow innocent children be turned over to the likes of Kinney… whatever his plot was.”  
  
Howe smiled. “Glad to hear it, Minister.”  
  
Fudge looked up at him shrewdly. “I suspect you want something for bringing this information forward? You and Dumbledore always do.”  
  
Howe’s smile did not falter. Instead, from nowhere he produced a newspaper of his own. “Oh just a trifling matter. A favour really. Not even a repayment.”  
  
Fudge sat back in his chair. “Really?” It was impossible to hide the scepticism in his voice.  
  
“Oh yes,” Howe said holding out the paper to Fudge. “I believe tonight is your annual inspection of Azkaban Prison?”  
  
Fudge shivered. As if he needed reminding. “It is.”  
  
“Well then, would you mind passing this along to Sirius Black?” Howe asked, still holding out the paper.  
  
Fudge blinked. “You want me to deliver a newspaper to Sirius Black?”  
  
“Not deliver, really, just, as long as you’re heading that way,” Howe said smiling warmly.  
  
Fudge took the paper but didn’t look at it. He was thinking hard. He remembered some connection between Black and Howe. Nothing sinister, but somehow it sparked his memory. Then he remembered. He looked up to see Howe was almost to the door.  
  
“Didn’t you resign over the Black case?” Fudge asked.  
  
Howe paused. “What do you mean Black _case_ …? There has to be an investigation for there to be a case, Minister.”  
  
Howe turned and looked back at Fudge one last time. “I just recall he liked crosswords. The one in today’s _Prophet_ was particularly good. I just thought he’d like it.”  
  
Howe turned back to the door and walked out, closing it gently behind him. Fudge looked down at the paper. In spite of all that had happened, the photograph on the front page made him smile. It was a photograph of the Weasley family.  
  
He never saw Arthur Weasley very often. He only held a minor role in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But Fudge understood him to be a polite man who took his job very seriously and had a large family. He had even written the recent Muggle Protection Act which Fudge had just signed last week.  
  
Apparently Arthur Weasley had won the _Daily Prophet’s_ Grand Prize Galleon Draw. It was a wonderful thing to happen to a family who only a few weeks ago had come so close to suffering a serious tragedy during the Heir of Slytherin fiasco at Hogwarts. Their youngest daughter it seemed had been taken by the Heir’s monster, which turned out to be a basilisk.  
  
The girl, Ginny was her name, had been saved from death by none other than Harriet Potter herself. The whole story had seemed rather far-fetched to Fudge at first. However, on his return visit to Hogwarts that day, after arresting and bringing in Gilderoy Lockhart for at least ten counts of illegal memory-modification and identity theft, Fudge had indeed been shown the body of the basilisk, killed in a way that complied perfectly with Potter’s account of the events.  
  
Fudge looked back down at the photograph. They did seem a good family. Every one of them were smiling warmly and waving at the camera. The second youngest girl even had her pet rat on her shoulder. In spite of himself, Fudge simply smiled, opened up his own briefcase, and slid the newspaper inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jackson Lee property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Solomon Kinney property of Hiromu Arakawa
> 
> Sherrod Howe property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	2. The Birthday and the Beast

“If only everyone had someone to ride in and save them at the last moment.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
Number Four, Privet Drive, was a perfectly normal house, and inside it lived a perfectly normal family. At least that was what the family who lived in Number Four wanted all the other perfectly normal families in the neighbourhood to think. However, every now and then, odd things would happen around Number Four that were difficult for the rest of the street to ignore.  
  
The first incident was that night twelve years ago when a motorbike had roared up to Number Four in the middle of the night, paused and then roared off again. Many in the neighbourhood heard it, but by a freak coincidence all of the street lamps had gone out on Privet Drive that night, so no one actually saw the brute that had created all the noise.  
  
Then there was the summer two years ago when the denizens of Privet Drive started to notice a large concentration of owls appearing around Number Four. At first it was only one or two, swooping in early in the morning. Then more and more came until a flock of them were swooping down on the house. This only ended when the family that lived at Number Four packed up mysteriously and fled for two days.  
  
Last summer it was the mysterious car that had awoken everyone in the middle of the night, but again, no one saw the offending vehicle. All anyone saw when they looked out their windows at Number Four was the man who lived there, Vernon Dursley, hanging out of one of the upstairs windows with his bony wife, Petunia, and portly son, Dudley, trying to pull him back inside.  
  
Those were the big, and admittedly, rare events. The most common disturbances from Number Four were the loud shouting matches that would break out between Vernon Dursley and his niece, Harriet Potter. The most recent, as far as the neighbours could tell, was over the girl giving out their telephone number to someone of whom Vernon Dursley disapproved. Fortunately, it had been over a month since that incident, and life in Privet Drive had returned to its normal quiet routine.  
  
Unbeknownst to any of the surrounding neighbours, the Dursley family lived in fear. In particular, they lived in fear of anyone finding out that Harriet was not a normal little girl. In fact, Harriet was about as abnormal as it was possible to be.  
  
Because of this, the Dursleys had spent years spreading as many rumours about Harriet as they could to keep anyone from talking to her. Even their son, Dudley, had spent much of his time in primary school making sure Harriet didn’t have a single friend. All of that changed the summer of 1991, when Harriet received a letter that changed her life forever.  
  
Contrary to everything the Dursleys had told their neighbours for years, Harriet was not a delinquent with criminal tendencies who attended Lady Desdemona’s Academy for Determinedly Delinquent Girls. In reality, Harriet was a quiet girl who loved everybody and attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That was what was so abnormal about Harriet Potter. She was a witch.  
  
More than that, Harriet seemed to have a knack for attracting trouble. In the last two years since Harriet received her life-changing letter from Hogwarts, she had become the youngest player ever to be picked for a Hogwarts house Quidditch team, been nearly crushed by a mountain troll, been nearly torn apart by a giant three headed dog, taken a potion that transformed her into another person, met Aragog the acromantula and nearly been eaten by his horse-sized offspring, and killed the first basilisk to be seen in Britain in over four hundred years.  
  
Worse than that, she had also come face to face with Lord Voldemort twice. Harriet still did not know why Lord Voldemort had tried to kill her in the first place. The Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had told her that he would tell her when she was older, and she would have to be patient until then.  
  
At the end of her first year, Harriet met Lord Voldemort after her friends had helped her get through a series of obstacles set up by the Hogwarts staff to protect the Philosopher’s Stone. Harriet had managed to stop him thanks to the lingering magical enchantment her mother had left, an enchantment that prevented Professor Quirrell, who was sharing a body with Lord Voldemort, from touching her skin. Voldemort was forced to flee, killing Quirrell in the process.  
  
At the end of her second year, Harriet came face to face with Voldemort’s sixteen-year old self, Tom Riddle. Riddle had preserved himself in a memory he had enchanted in a diary. In that time, Voldemort had proved just how powerful he still was. He had enchanted one of Harriet’s friends, Ginny Weasley, into opening the legendary Chamber of Secrets to carrying out a series of attacks; petrifying a cat, several students and even a ghost, before Harriet stopped him and his basilisk.  
  
It was that last encounter that had given Harriet the most trouble afterwards. Not only had Riddle enchanted Ginny, but he had invaded and manipulated Harriet’s dreams. A month and a half later, Harriet still had trouble sleeping because of it; afraid he would appear again.  
  
He had also tried to convince Harriet to join him and restore him to power. After he discovered that Harriet couldn’t die because of her mother’s sacrifice, that she wasn’t “special” after all, he had attempted to kill her through his basilisk. Thanks to Professor Dumbledore’s phoenix, Fawkes, who not only blinded the basilisk, but brought the Sorting Hat which provided Godric Gryffindor’s sword. Harriet was able to use the sword to kill both the basilisk and destroy Riddle’s diary.  
  
In spite of all those harrowing experiences, the last two years had easily been the best of Harriet’s life. It wasn’t the adventures, or the fact she was famous, or even because of Quidditch. No. The best thing to happen to Harriet since she received her letter was she had finally made friends. Not just any friends, wonderful friends: Ronnie Weasley, Hermione Granger, Dora Flamel, Kieran O’Brien, Marcus Van De Lakk, and Scott McIntyre. She had also become good friends with Rubeus Hagrid, the massive gamekeeper for Hogwarts who was twice as tall as a normal man but was the gentlest person Harriet had ever known.  
  
Harriet had also managed to make a few friends from the group of refugee students who had come from the war in America the previous summer. Harriet had spent much of the summer wondering if the war was over yet. On the one hand, she wished it was, because she didn’t want more people to die. But on the other hand, a strange part of Harriet hoped it wasn’t, because she wasn’t sure she was ready for them all to leave.  
  
The new students hadn’t been very well received at first, and the incident with the Chamber didn’t help matters. Many of the regular students blamed the new students for the attacks. The new students even disappeared for a couple weeks, and were later revealed to be hiding in a place called the Room of Requirement, a secret room in Hogwarts that could provide anything its occupants desired except for food.  
  
Despite having such great friends, Harriet had not heard much from them over the summer, but she knew they were mostly busy. Ronnie had said she was going to Egypt with her family to visit her eldest brother, Bill. Hermione and Dora were both on family holidays in France. Marcus was busy taking part in Gilderoy Lockhart’s trial. This meant her most regular correspondents were Kieran and Scott.  
  
The most amusing incident happened one week into the summer, when Harriet had received a phone call from Ronnie. It might have worked if not for an unfortunate set of circumstances. The first unfortunate circumstance was that it had been Uncle Vernon who answered the phone. The second was, in an effort to make absolutely sure she was heard, Ronnie chose to shout into the telephone receiver as loudly as she could. The third was when Ronnie made the fatal mistake of mentioning Hogwarts.  
  
Uncle Vernon had been furious. He shouted a lot, which hadn’t been pleasant at the time, but in hindsight Harriet actually had to admit the sight of Uncle Vernon puffed up like an elephant seal, spit flying as he yelled was rather funny. As had been the look of shock on his face when Ronnie began shouting into the phone.  
  
Since then, Harriet had received a letter here and there from each of her friends. The biggest improvement over the last summer was that unlike last summer, Harriet was now allowed to let her owl, Hedwig, go out and hunt at night. Uncle Vernon had made her swear not to use Hedwig to send any letters, but Harriet had ignored him.  
  
She had also managed to get around Uncle Vernon locking her school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs that had once been her bedroom. Early in the summer, Harriet had waited for the Dursleys to leave the house for a while, snuck down stairs and picked the lock to the cupboard under the stairs. She had learned how the previous summer from Fred and George, her best friend Ronnie’s older twin brothers. She took all her necessary schoolbooks, quills, ink and parchment. She also snuck out a few more of the Nancy Drew books that Hermione had given her at the end of their first year.  
  
At the moment, however, Harriet was doing homework. She had her copy of _A History of Magic_ propped open, working on an essay for Professor Binns’ class. She also had a torch held in the crook of her neck, which was starting to hurt from the continued effort of holding the torch. She felt a yawn coming on and set the torch down.  
  
Harriet felt some of the fresh summer air on her face as she lifted the covers. It felt pleasant and cool and she smiled and decided to call it a night. She turned off her torch, closed her book, put the cap back on her ink bottle, and began to put it all into an old pillow case, getting ready to hide it under the loose floorboard under her bed.  
  
The Harriet Potter who slid out from under the covers was much changed from the Harriet Potter who had lived in this room the previous summer. She had grown several inches over the past year, and was beginning to fill out a little. She had a straight nose and high cheekbones, with almond-shaped, brilliantly green eyes.  
  
She was dressed simply in an oversized t-shirt and soft athletic shorts she had been given by Ginny while staying with the Weasley’s the previous summer. Her straight, jet-black hair was tied back into a tight ponytail, her fringe pinned at her right temple by a silver-cat hair-clip that had been given to her on her very first day at Hogwarts by fellow Gryffindor, Lavender Brown.  
  
The way it was pinned hid the lightning shaped scar on her forehead, the lone sign of what made Harriet so remarkable. It was the mark from where the curse Lord Voldemort had fired at her had hit. But instead of killing her, it rebounded upon Voldemort and destroyed his body and most of his powers. All it had given Harriet was the scar, which she usually kept covered with her hair to keep people from staring at her.  
  
Harriet looked at the clock as she swung her legs out of bed and paused. Her heart skipped a beat. She had been thirteen for a whole hour already. She was finally a teenager. A thrill of excitement swept over Harriet. Sure she was all alone and there was no one around to share the moment, but it didn’t matter. She had reached one of life’s milestones.  
  
She hopped out of bed as quietly as she could and did a little dance. She paused afterwards, cringing and listening hard, hoping she hadn’t woken the Dursleys. Fortunately, Uncle Vernon and Dudley’s snores continued unabated.  
  
Harriet sighed in relief and moved to the window, scanning the sky. It was the third night of her snowy owl, Hedwig’s, absence. She’d been gone longer than this before but Harriet still missed her.  
  
Harriet stretched and looked up at the night sky again. As she did, she squinted looking at the moon. There was something moving, silhouetted against the silvery orb, coming in Harriet’s direction. It was moving awkwardly, and Harriet squinted harder. Harriet gasped as she recognized what it was, and stepped aside.  
  
A half a minute later, seven owls flew through the window. Or rather, six owls flew through the window, with two of them carrying a seventh. The last two owls fluttered onto Harriet’s bed, setting down the owl they were carrying in a gentle, almost reverent way. Harriet had no trouble recognizing most of the owls. The easiest to recognize was Hedwig. Apart from Hedwig there was Hesper, Marcus’ owl, and Adal, who belonged to Scott. The seventh owl who had been set down gently on the bed was Errol.  
  
Harriet removed the parcel that Errol had been carrying and scooped him up into her arms. She laid him as gently as she could into Hedwig’s cage. Errol gave one little hoot of thanks before he managed to get to his aged talons and drink. Harriet smiled warmly at him before she turned back to the other owls. She almost gave out a laugh as she saw them. All six of the remaining owls were lined up on the edge of her bed, looking up at her with interest and holding out their legs.  
  
“Oh relax you lot, I can’t open them all at once,” Harriet whispered as she crossed back to the owls. She knelt and one by one untied their parcels. She started with Hedwig’s, then Adal’s, then Hesper’s. The next owl was a handsome barn owl. Harriet smiled to see _From Kieran_ on the card that came with the owl’s parcel. The next was a large eagle-owl who Harriet was sure was the Flamel family owl. The final owl was a Tawny, and its letter bore the unmistakable Hogwarts School crest.  
  
Harriet opened each and every parcel one by one. As she did, with the exception of Hedwig and Errol, each owl spread its wings and flew out the window into the night. Each parcel contained a present and a birthday card. Harriet opened Ronnie’s card first. Inside was the clipping from the newspaper article about the Weasley’s winning seven-hundred galleons from the _Daily Prophet_ and going on vacation to Egypt.  
  
Harriet beamed as she looked down at the moving photograph that accompanied the clipping. She giggled quietly at the sight of the Weasley family waving up at her merrily. There was Mr and Mrs Weasley right in the centre, with their arms around a man Harriet had never seen before. She supposed it must be the eldest Weasley son, Bill.  
  
As Harriet got a good look at Bill, she felt her stomach get fluttery. He was very handsome, and more than that, he was undeniably cool. He had long hair pulled back into a ponytail and was wearing a dragon-hide jacket. Harriet bit her lip and forced herself to look at the rest of the picture. There was Fred and George, both laughing merrily, and Percy who looked more smug than usual for some reason. Finally she looked at Ronnie and Ginny. Ronnie was hugging Ginny from behind, Scabbers on her shoulder, both beaming.  
  
Harriet read Ronnie’s note. She couldn’t help but giggle more as Ronnie described her adventures in Egypt. Fred and George attempting to lock Percy in a tomb, the bizarre curses that Egyptian wizards put on their tombs and all the mutated skeletons inside of unfortunate grave-robbing Muggles, and how happy she was for her family to finally have some gold. They would be back a week before returning to Hogwarts, and would go to Diagon Alley.  
  
Harriet’s stomach lurched. How was she going to get to Diagon Alley this year? The Dursleys were unlikely to take her. She put it from her mind for now and finished reading. Apparently Percy had just been named Head Boy. That explained the smug look on his face in the _Daily Prophet_ cutting.  
  
Harriet opened Ronnie’s present now. She gave a soft “ooo” as she pulled out what looked like a small glass spinning top. She looked it over closely, running her fingers along its smooth lines. She set it down on its point on the desk beside her and went to spin it but found she couldn’t. Instead her fingers slipped and she almost gave a shriek of fright, expecting it to fall off the desk, but again she was surprised. Instead of falling, the little top stayed perfectly upright, solid as a rock. Harriet looked in the box it had come in and found another note from Ronnie.  
  
  
 _Harriet,  
This is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there’s someone untrustworthy around it’s supposed to light up and spin. Thought it would be handy in case You-Know-Who ever showed up again. Bill said it’s rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn’t reliable because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn’t know Fred and George had put beetles in his soup.  
  
XO,  
Ronnie_  
  
  
Harriet looked at the Sneakoscope with interest. Well, even if it didn’t work very well, it was really pretty, and at least it wasn’t lighting up right now. Now she turned to the card and presents that Hedwig had brought. This was from Hermione, and the present was quite heavy.  
  
Harriet imagined it was going to be a book, but she put it down and opened the letter and read. By the end of this letter, Harriet’s smile had grown even more. It was twice as long as Ronnie’s had been, detailing her jealousy at being unable to visit Egypt as well. Harriet also had to smile up at Hedwig when she read how Hedwig had turned up to take her present for her.  
  
“Awwww, you flew all the way to France to make sure I got a present?” Harriet asked as quietly as she could. Hedwig puffed up her feathers and clicked her beak proudly.  
  
Harriet smiled and read on. She almost laughed out loud when she read Hermione’s PS:  
  
  
 _Ronnie says Percy’s Head Boy. I’ll bet Percy’s really pleased. Ronnie doesn’t seem too happy about it. Also, I blush writing it but, is it just me or does Ronnie’s brother, Bill, seem very, well, interesting?_  
  
  
Harriet rolled her eyes and muttered “No, it’s not just you,” under her breath as she set down the note and picked up the present. Harriet gasped as she pulled off the wrapping paper. It was not a book. Instead it was a black leather case, with silver lettering that formed the words _Broomstick Servicing Kit_.  
  
“Oh wow,” Harriet said reverently as she opened the case. Inside she found handle-polish, tail-twig clippers, a compass to clip onto your broom, and a handbook on how best to use everything in the kit.  
  
The next parcel was Kieran’s. Not being on vacation, his letter was a simple wish of happy birthday and the hope she would find her present useful for this coming year. Harriet beamed as she opened it and found it was a brand-new pair of shin, knee and elbow pads for Quidditch.  
  
Scott’s present it turned out came with some assembly required. It was a brand-new cage for Hedwig, larger and stronger than the old one.  
  
“Heh, you probably could have used this last summer, huh?” Harriet asked Hedwig. Hedwig gave an indignant hoot and her amber eyes narrowed. Harriet was sure that like her, Hedwig would never forget their eventful trip to Hogwarts in Mister Weasley’s flying car.  
  
Marcus’ letter was even longer than Hermione’s, and it also contained a newspaper clipping. However, this time it wasn’t just a little clipped out article. It was an entire front page:  
  
  


  
_**GILDEROY GUILTY!** _   
_**Wizengamot convicts Gilderoy Lockhart on all counts. Sentencing to be fixed.** _   


**  
  
**So they convicted him after all? Good, she thought turning to Marcus’ letter. She could never forgive Lockhart for all the horrible things he’d done. Taking credit for what so many other people had done. And especially not for trying to run out on Ginny, preferring to leave her to die and save himself.  
  
Marcus’ letter turned out to be a play by play of the trial.  
  
“Heh, guess I won’t get on your bad-side,” Harriet muttered as she read.  
  
The end of the letter filled Harriet with a twinge of jealousy. Squeezed in at the bottom of the page and continued on the back was his description of travelling to Canada with Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore had apparently been watching the trial and approached Marcus after to ask him to come to Canada with him.  
  
Apparently there was a new refugee who was going to be coming; a boy in their year. Professor Dumbledore wanted Marcus along to greet the new boy and tell him what life at Hogwarts was like to help him be more comfortable with the relocation. Harriet smiled. Jealous as she was, she had to admit that Marcus was the best choice.  
  
Marcus’ present was about the size of Ronnie’s, though Harriet had to admit it would probably be more useful. She had to laugh too, as despite how dissimilar Hermione and Marcus were, how similar their presents ended up being. While Hermione had given her a magical broom-stick servicing kit, Marcus had given her a magical eye-glass servicing kit.  
  
Harriet now turned to Dora’s present. Dora’s letter was predictably very ‘Dora.’  
  
  
 _Harriet,  
Having a good time. Family’s great. Thought you’d like this. I noticed last Christmas that you only had through number fifteen. So I got you number sixteen so you could keep reading.  
  
Lots of Love,  
Dora  
  
_ _P.S. Remember, if they give you any trouble: termites._  
  
  
Harriet rolled her eyes again but smiled and opened Dora’s present. She almost squealed with excitement. _It was The Clue of the Tapping Heels_ , the sixteenth in her Nancy Drew mystery series. Hermione had indeed only given her through fifteen and she’d already read all of them several times.  
  
Now she turned to the last parcel. This one was from Hagrid. Her grin grew as she started to tear the present open but to her fright, something inside the package snapped and snarled.  
  
“Oh no,” Harriet muttered as the package thudded to the floor.  
  
It didn’t move anymore, and Harriet clamped her eyes shut and listened hard. She was sure the Dursleys would have heard the sound of the present dropping to the floor. To her relief, the snores continued.  
  
Harriet looked down at the parcel again. It was no longer moving, but she cautiously took her torch from the pillow case and prepared to poke the present. Harriet didn’t know what was in the package, but knowing Hagrid, it could be anything. Being twice as tall, and three times as wide as a normal man, Hagrid didn’t have quite the same sense of what was dangerous as other people did.  
  
Harriet remembered all too well how Hagrid had once smuggled an illegal dragon egg into the school. Furthermore, it was Hagrid who had taken care of Aragog the spider as a pet before the spider escaped during the first Chamber of Secrets incident. Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts over the incident and had his wand snapped in half. Even fifty years later, the lingering guilt over the incident had caused Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, to arrest Hagrid as a suspect when the Chamber was opened again last year. It was Harriet and her friends who proved Hagrid’s innocence.  
  
Harriet prodded the package. It snapped again and flopped around. Harriet bit her lip, thinking hard. She wanted to pounce on it, but she didn’t want to hurt whatever it was inside. At the same time, she didn’t want whatever it was to hurt her either. She spotted a piece of the packaging that had come off. She reached down and took hold of it as gently as possible. Then she leaned back and yanked as hard as she could on the paper. The package tumbled and the paper finally came off.  
  
Harriet blinked in surprise. It was not some creature, it was a book; a large book with a handsome green cover and golden words that read _The Monster Book of Monsters_. Harriet barely had time to finish reading the title when the book jumped, flipped onto its edge and scuttled along the edge of her bed and under her desk.  
  
“Great,” Harriet muttered and lowered herself down onto the floor.  
  
She knelt low and turned on her torch, spotting the book hiding underneath the desk. She bit her lip, thinking hard. The book seemed to be able to bite rather hard, so Harriet wasn’t all that anxious to stick her hand in to attempt to grab it. She decided to turn off the torch and turn it around, attempting to prod the book out from under the desk. She poked it and the book snapped angrily and finally scuttled out into the open.  
  
Harriet pounced, squashing the book down hard against the floor. It shuddered under her, but her weight was sufficient to keep it from snapping anymore. Harriet looked around for something to restrain the book. She slid across the floor with it, keeping it pinned, back to her bed. She pried up the loose floorboard and from it took a small coil of clothesline she had snuck from the garden shed.  
  
She had snuck it out with other intentions in mind, but now had found a better use for it. She moved off the book just quick enough to grab it up and begin wrapping the clothesline around it. She tied it as tight as she could and tossed the book onto the bed. It shivered and struggled more before finally going motionless.  
  
Harriet sighed in relief and finally picked up Hagrid’s card.  
  
  
 _Dear Harriet,  
Happy Birthday!  
  
Think you’ll find this useful for next year. Won’t say no more here.  
  
Tell you when I see you.  
  
Hope the Muggles are treating you right.  
  
All the best,  
Hagrid._  
  
  
Harriet twisted her mouth in worry. The fact that Hagrid thought a book that tried to bite like an animal would come in useful was not reassuring. Remembering Norbert the baby dragon, Aragog the acromantula, and Fluffy the Cerberus, the possibilities of what horrifying new creature Hagrid had managed to procure were endless.  
  
In spite of this, Harriet picked up all her cards and letters and put them up on her desk. She grinned warmly before she finally picked up her Hogwarts letter. It felt heavier than in previous years.  
  
There were two pieces of parchment inside the envelope this time. The first was full of the usual information about the Hogwarts Express leaving from Platform 9¾ at eleven-o-clock on September the first. What made Harriet’s heart leap, however, was the added information at the bottom of the letter.  
  
 _Third years and older are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. As a third year student, please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._  
  
Harriet gave a soft groan as she pulled out the permission form. She would love the chance to visit Hogsmeade, but how on earth was she going to get Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign it? The Dursleys wouldn’t willingly do anything that made Harriet happy if they could help it.  
  
Harriet glanced at her alarm clock and saw it was just past two-o-clock in the morning. Knowing she couldn’t do anything about the form now, Harriet put the form, her new monster book, and all of her presents into the pillow case and neatly tucked it all into the space under the loose floorboard under her bed. Then she climbed back into bed, took off her glasses, and lay facing her cards. She beamed, gave one last giggle of happiness, and finally closed her eyes.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet’s good feelings did not last long the next day. It wasn’t the Dursleys predictably forgetting her birthday for the third year in a row. It was the news that Aunt Marge was coming to visit for an entire week. Even though Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon’s sister, and thus not a direct relative of Harriet’s, she had still been forced to call her _aunt_ all her life.  
  
If possible, Aunt Marge and Harriet hated each other even more than Harriet and Uncle Vernon did. Aunt Marge lived out in the country where she bred bulldogs, and thus did not often come to stay. However, Harriet could remember each of her visits with burning clarity.  
  
There was Dudley’s fifth birthday, when Aunt Marge would hit Harriet around the shins with her cane when no one was looking to stop Harriet from beating Dudley at musical statues. Then when Harriet was eight Aunt Marge had given Harriet dog biscuits for Christmas. During her last visit, the summer Harriet turned ten, Harriet accidently stepped on the tail of Aunt Marge’s favourite bulldog, Ripper. Ripper chased Harriet up a tree and Aunt Marge didn’t call Ripper off until midnight. It was one of Dudley’s favourite memories.  
  
From the moment that Aunt Marge walked in, Harriet knew it was going to be one of the worst weeks of her life. In spite of this, Harriet had seen an opportunity. Just before Uncle Vernon left to pick up Aunt Marge from the train station, Harriet stopped him, and after a slick bit of negotiating, Harriet managed to convince Uncle Vernon to sign her form for her after Aunt Marge’s visit as long as Harriet was on her best behaviour during Aunt Marge’s stay and promised not to say anything about her true identity as a witch.  
  
Harriet then sent Hedwig off with Errol to stay at the Weasleys. Not that Harriet wanted to, but she didn’t want to risk having Uncle Vernon sign her Hogsmeade form. Harriet was sure if Aunt Marge found out Harriet owned an owl, it would be a deal-breaker with Uncle Vernon.  
  
As Aunt Marge entered Number Four, Harriet braced herself for the worst. Aunt Marge looked very much like Uncle Vernon to the extent she even had a moustache. Aunt Marge brushed past Harriet, shoving her suitcase into Harriet’s stomach as she rushed to greet Dudley. She gave Dudley a big hug, and kiss, and a twenty-pound note.  
  
Harriet wasted no time taking Aunt Marge’s suitcase upstairs to the spare bedroom. Any time not spent in the company of Aunt Marge was a blessing. She put down the suitcase and returned to the kitchen grudgingly. Harriet was usually content to stay in her room, but she knew Aunt Marge wouldn’t allow it. Aunt Marge wanted Harriet in sight at all times when she visited, ready to be criticized and picked on whenever Aunt Marge felt the urge.  
  
The Dursleys were all sitting around the kitchen table when Harriet came back down, drinking tea and eating fruitcake. While there were five chairs around the table, there had only been four places set. Harriet was getting nothing. Even Ripper the bulldog had been given tea.  
  
They were all talking about Aunt Marge’s bulldog breeding when Harriet sat down.  
  
“So!” Aunt Marge boomed in her most threatening voice. “Still here are you?”  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” Harriet replied, trying her best to sound gracious and polite.  
  
Aunt Marge’s eyes narrowed. Harriet knew she should have replied in a snooty, rude way. It would have made Aunt Marge even happier to have an excuse to yell at her. Uncle Vernon glared at her too and Harriet smiled on the inside. She loved making Uncle Vernon squirm. She had promised to be behaved during Aunt Marge’s visit, not make Aunt Marge happy.  
  
“Where is it you go to school again, girl?” Aunt Marge growled.  
  
“Lady Desdemona’s,” Uncle Vernon butted in. “A first rate institution, it’s done a marvellous job as you can see.”  
  
Aunt Marge still didn’t look pleased. “Very well, I’m assuming they use the cane at Lady Desdemona’s?” she asked shrewdly.  
  
Uncle Vernon shot Harriet a quick glance.  
  
“Oh yes,” Harriet said, nodding as seriously as she could. “All the time, Aunt Marge.”  
  
“Very good,” Aunt Marge said and smiled. Apparently the thought of Harriet getting hit with a cane was good enough for her. “I’m so sick of this namby-pamby nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it! How often are you beaten, girl?”  
  
“Not often anymore, Aunt Marge,” Harriet said in her most pleasant tone. “I’ve been learning very well since I started. I never get the urge to steal or lie anymore,” Harriet said, hoping the added touch would please Aunt Marge even more.  
  
“Excellent,” Aunt Marge said.  
  
“So, did you catch the news this morning, Marge?” Uncle Vernon said, drawing the subject back off Harriet as he poured her more tea. “What about that escaped prisoner, eh?”  
  
“He should have been put to death the moment he was declared guilty!” Aunt Marge boomed hitting her fist on the table. “Uncouth wastrel!”  
  
Harriet grimaced. They were back on the subject of Sirius Black. Harriet had heard about his escape on the news that morning. The news had been lean on details, but being a member of the magical world, Harriet knew more about the incident than the Dursleys did. Just as Harriet was not a normal girl, Sirius Black was not a normal convict.  
  
He was a wizard too. One of the most feared wizards of all time after Lord Voldemort. In fact, he was Lord Voldemort’s second in command before the fateful night that Voldemort murdered Harriet’s parents and left her with her scar. Black was even more infamous for the incident in which he murdered thirteen people with a single curse shortly before his capture. The thought of Black being on the loose filled Harriet with a twinge of dread.  
  
“This country has gotten far too wishy-washy for me in recent years,” Aunt Marge continued. “Now if this were the States we could deal with the ilk of this Black character properly!”  
  
Aunt Marge took another sip of her tea. “Though I dare-say I don’t much fancy their weather. More stupid people killed in the central states by tornadoes. Another ruddy town was wiped off the map by them last June! Everyone tries to give them sympathy but you know what I say?! If they don’t want to live where there’s tornadoes then they should ruddy-well move!”  
  
Aunt Marge slammed her fist down on the table, splashing tea all over the table top. Aunt Petunia whimpered. Harriet meanwhile felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. More towns destroyed by tornadoes? Did that mean there had been more attacks? Harriet remembered how the attacks the previous summer had been reported as tornadoes. Harriet sighed. It looked like the new students were not going to be going home anytime soon.  
  
As Aunt Marge’s stay went on, Harriet couldn’t help but miss life at Privet Drive without her. Despite her pleasure that Harriet was going to a school that beat her if she misbehaved, Aunt Marge still found plenty of ways to criticize Harriet. First she was irritable with Harriet over hiding her scar.  
  
“It’s the mark of how your parents died, girl! Shameful of you to hide it!”  
  
So Harriet changed her hairstyle to show the scar.  
  
“What are you doing parading that horrible scar around?! It’s revolting!”  
  
The problem was, the more Aunt Marge drank, the worse she got. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon had prepared ahead of time for Aunt Marge’s stay, because there was no shortage of gin, wine, bourbon, brandy, rum, or scotch anywhere in the house. The worst times were when Aunt Marge found it necessary to predict Harriet’s future misdeeds, or criticized Harriet’s parents. Unfortunately, Aunt Marge preferred to do both at the same time.  
  
“Well she seems good now, Vernon, but mark my words, the moment that girl gets out of that school it will be straight back to her old ways. Just like her mother, and I daresay much like her father. Probably wind up on the streets, selling herself for drugs. Her mother was probably the same way, I dare say. That’s probably how she came to be in the first place!”  
  
It happened in a flash. The wine-glass Aunt Marge was holding shattered, spraying bits of glass and wine everywhere. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both cried in shock.  
  
“MARGE!” Aunt Petunia shrieked. “Are you alright?!”  
  
“Oh not to worry,” Aunt Marge said with a drunken wave of her hand. “I must have squeezed it too hard. Got a very firm grip! You need it raising bulldogs!”  
  
Harriet wasted no time in sneaking off from the dinner table. She wasn’t entirely sure if she had broken the glass or not. It had been a long time since she had lost control of her magic. Harriet had more to worry about than just the ability to go into Hogsmeade. If she wasn’t careful, she could be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic for doing magic outside school.  
  
The main thing that got Harriet through Aunt Marge’s stay was having her homework to do, her broomstick servicing kit manual, and the copy of _The Clue of the Tapping Heels_ to pass the time at night. This worked so well that Harriet was finally starting to view Aunt Marge’s stay more optimistically.  
  
However, Harriet found out that this buffer could only carry her so far. The final night of Aunt Marge’s stay tested Harriet to her breaking point. Aunt Marge had launched into another attack on the character of Harriet’s parents. Harriet had been unable to do anything but sit and close her eyes at the dinner table, fighting back tears.  
  
Aunt Marge had been relentless. She had decided to focus on Harriet’s father this time. She called him a good for nothing, lazy scrounger. She said he must have been drunk when he got himself and Harriet’s mother killed in the car crash. She called Harriet a burden on her decent, hard-working relatives.  
  
Finally it had gotten too much and Harriet ran from the room.  
  
“That’s right! Run you little coward!” Aunt Marge had shouted after her, her words slurring from all the brandy she had consumed, as Harriet ran up the stairs into her bedroom and threw herself on her bed.  
  
She did feel like a coward. She should have shouted back, she should have told Aunt Marge how her parents had actually been wealthy, how they had died like heroes saving Harriet’s life. But she hadn’t. Instead, she had just run.  
  
Harriet sighed as she heard the Dursleys getting into bed. She waited until she heard the snores of Uncle Vernon, Dudley, and Aunt Marge before she slid back out of bed and pried up the loose floor-board. Quietly as she could, she pulled out her pillow-case of homework and books. However, she did not pull out any of her books this time.  
  
Instead, she reached back into the space under the loose floorboard and pulled out the rest of the bundles of clothesline she had stolen from the garden shed. She didn’t know what was driving her to do it. It was the same urge that had driven her to take them in the first place. Harriet picked two of the bundles and climbed back onto her bed. She undid one bundle, pulled her knees up to her chest, and leaned down. Her hands trembled as she started trying to tie.  
  
After she finished, Harriet leaned back, inspecting her work. She wiggled her feet. _No… too loose_ , she thought and leaned down once more, working the line again. Finally, she managed to get it to the right tightness. She then took another coil and started to tie just under her knees. They never tied this much in the books, but Harriet was sure just the ankles would not be enough to prevent an escape.  
  
Finishing that, Harriet straightened her legs to admire the effect. _Yeah, this is much more like it_ , she thought. She wriggled her legs a little more before she finally swung them out of bed. She then picked up the hair scarf that Kieran had given her for Christmas. She took another deep breath and sighed. She put it up to her mouth and pulled the ends tight behind her head, tying it down tight over her mouth like she had seen in the pictures in her Nancy Drew books.  
  
Harriet twisted her mouth in disappointment under it. She was fairly sure she could still make a lot of noise under it, and probably still talk with perfect clarity. This clearly wasn’t how it was done. She knelt and reached into the pillow case, pulling out _The Clue of the Tapping Heels_. She opened to the first page of the final chapter. Despite the picture, Nancy described the gag as being in her mouth, not over it.  
  
Harriet looked around and saw her wardrobe. She got to her feet and hopped over as quietly as she could. She opened one of the drawers and pulled out a clean pair of socks. She pulled down the scarf, wadded up one of the socks and stuffed it in her mouth as well. It filled her mouth and held down her tongue. She retied the scarf over it. Harriet grunted and worked her jaw. _Okay, this works a lot better_ , she thought and hopped back to her bed.  
  
She sat and took another, smaller piece of rope. Harriet didn’t know why, but somehow, she felt freer doing this than she had all summer. She tied the small piece of rope into a little loop, and then slipped her hands inside it. She twisted them around a little. She grunted more into the gag and wriggled.  
  
Her mind was instantly off and racing. She’d been captured by Malfoy and his cronies of thieves. Harriet had been investigating them for a while but Malfoy finally got the jump on her using his _Hand of Glory_ that he had stolen from Borgin and Burke’s. He had snuck up on her in the dark and grabbed her, hauling her into a secret room, and leaving her bound and helpless unable to call for help.  
  
Harriet got to her feet again. She hopped to the door as quietly as she could. She tried to be quiet so as not to wake the Dursleys or Aunt Marge, but in her mind she was pretending to not alert her captors that she was trying to escape. She pretended to wriggle the handle and grunt in frustration, finding it “locked.”  
  
She looked around and spotted her desk with a pen and pad of paper on it. _Aha_ , Harriet thought, _I can make a note and turn it into a paper airplane and toss it out the window_! She grinned under the scarf and started to hop towards the desk.  
  
It was then that all of Harriet’s worst fears came true. As she reached her desk, she hopped onto part of the pillow case and it slid underneath her. Harriet lost her balance, bumping into her desk before slumping to the floor in a very loud thump. Harriet yelped in pain before she cringed. Her desk lamp had fallen over and rolled onto the hard floor beside her, where it smashed into pieces.  
  
“What the devil?!” Uncle Vernon cried in the bedroom next to her.  
  
Harriet scrambled frantically. She slid her hands out of the looped clothesline and tried to untie her legs. She couldn’t get the knots undone. Harriet was panicking now. She heard not just Uncle Vernon’s, but also Aunt Marge’s loud, stamping feet coming towards her door. Harriet pulled down the scarf, spat out the sock and lifted herself back into bed as fast as she could. She pulled her covers up over her tied legs and cringed as Uncle Vernon flung the door open and turned on her light.  
  
“What the _devil_ are you doing, girl?!” Uncle Vernon bellowed.  
  
“Sorry!” Harriet squeaked. “I-I-I was reaching for my glasses and accidentally bumped the desk and—”  
  
“We don’t want your pathetic excuses!” Aunt Marge snapped. “Do you have any idea what time it is?! My train leaves in six hours!”  
  
“Sorry, Aunt Marge,” Harriet whimpered, praying and hoping with all her might that the situation could not possibly get worse.  
  
It did.  
  
Aunt Marge’s little eyes moved around the room. They moved to the desk, to the lamp, then to the pillow case on the floor. And right beside it, the bundles of clothesline that Harriet had not used.  
  
“What are you doing with that clothesline?” Aunt Marge asked.  
  
Harriet felt her whole body trembling. She had never been so afraid in her life.  
  
“You stole that from our shed, girl?!” Uncle Vernon asked, sounding even angrier.  
  
“N-No,” Harriet lied, not knowing what else to say.  
  
“You little liar,” Aunt Marge said, her eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong with your legs?”  
  
Harriet’s heart sank. Aunt Marge reached down, grabbed Harriet’s blanket and sheets and ripped them off the bed. There she was, her legs still tied, the scarf still hanging around her neck. She was caught.  
  
“Why… you… little… _freak_!” Aunt Marge shrieked. She stepped towards Harriet and raised a hand. Harriet didn’t raise her own hands in time. Aunt Marge’s hand slapped her hard across the cheek, which burned in pain.  
  
“I knew you were just like that sick mother of yours,” Aunt Marge roared. “Getting your jollies off of something so depraved! You sick little freak!”  
  
Harriet shook her head, pleading, tears filling her eyes.  
  
“Just like your mother, a right little whore!” Aunt Marge carried on. “I’ll bet this is just how she lulled that degenerate father of yours into impregnating her! Turning him on with sick, unnatural thoughts! Freak! No wonder you go to Lady Desdemona’s!”  
  
It felt like it went on for hours. It was the worst moment of Harriet’s life that she could remember.  
  
“Vernon! Write to them! Tell them they need to take her on sooner! She needs the most severe beatings they can get to knock this sick, unnaturalness out of her head! They should throw you out on the street, that’s where a little freak like you belongs! Just like your freak of a mother! You should have died in that car crash with them and saved society from the wretched likes of yourself!”  
  
Aunt Marge looked as though she was swelling with rage, and she raised her hand one more time to slap Harriet. The hand came down again but it started to slow as it approached. Harriet closed her eyes and held her hands up in front of her face.  
  
The blow did not come. Harriet opened her eyes again. Aunt Marge was still swelling. More than swelling, she was inflating, just like a balloon. Ripper came skidding into the room and began barking madly. Uncle Vernon cried out in shock and Aunt Petunia finally came into the room.  
  
“What on earth—MARGE!?” Aunt Petunia shrieked at the sight.  
  
Harriet gaped as Aunt Marge continued to swell. Before long she became perfectly round, her lips and eyelids pulled tight shut. Her hands stuck out of her sides and her fingers had swollen until they looked like sausages. Finally, Aunt Marge began to float up to the ceiling, bouncing off the ceiling fan like a large, very ugly blimp.  
  
“PUT HER RIGHT!” Uncle Vernon bellowed at Harriet, pointing up at Aunt Marge.  
  
His yell startled Ripper and the bulldog leapt forward, chomping down hard on Uncle Vernon’s ankle. Uncle Vernon cried out in pain and Petunia screamed trying to pull Ripper off.  
  
It was at that moment that everything stopped. Ripper continued to snarl and tug on Uncle Vernon’s ankle but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both froze and looked at the door. Harriet’s sight of the door was blocked by the bulk of Uncle Vernon and the inflated Aunt Marge. But she heard a deep and very familiar voice speak from the doorway.  
  
“Good morning! Sherman Horne, Accidental Magic Reversal Squad at your service!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	3. To Glen Raglan

“Yes. Sticks and stones can break bones. However, it is much easier to heal bones than the soul, and only words can damage the soul.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“A-accidental—” Aunt Petunia started to ask. She was cut off by Ripper’s yelp when Uncle Vernon gave his leg a violent shake to dislodge his teeth.  
  
“Accidental Magic Reversal Squad,” the unseen Mr Horne repeated.  
  
Uncle Vernon backed away from Ripper and Harriet finally saw the newcomer stride into the room. She had expected Headmaster Sherrod Howe by the voice, but that was not who she saw. The man had a different nose, wore overlarge spectacles that made his eyes look half their normal size, and his usually fly-away hair was slicked back. He wore gaudy, sunshine-yellow robes with _MoM_ emblazoned on a small shield on the left breast. Ripper growled at him but made no effort to attack.  
  
Despite the changed appearance, Harriet was absolutely sure that it was Professor Howe. Her suspicions were confirmed when he glanced at her and gave her the tiniest of winks. In spite of everything that had happened, Harriet felt her heart lift. The only person in the world who could have made her feel more relieved at that very moment would have been Albus Dumbledore.  
  
To Harriet’s surprise another man stepped into view behind Professor Howe. This man was taller and more slender in build. He had short, brown hair, a high widow’s peak and a very neatly trimmed moustache. He was wearing the same colour robes as Professor Howe. Harriet noted he had a cane, but did not seem to be leaning on it.  
  
Uncle Vernon turned to the new man. Despite wearing robes, Harriet supposed the dignified way the man carried himself, combined with a cane and moustache, made Uncle Vernon gravitate more towards the newcomer than Professor Howe.  
  
Uncle Vernon’s tone remained quite rude. “What is this? What are you doing in my house?!” he demanded.  
  
“As my colleague said,” the new man replied, “we are from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. Occasionally young witches and wizards are pressed to performing magic unintentionally. This most typically happens when the young witch or wizard is undergoing a _severe_ emotional trauma.”  
  
He put strong emphasis on ‘severe’ and Harriet could not help but notice his eyes dart up to Aunt Marge and back. Harriet blinked. How could he have known Aunt Marge had been attacking her? Had the two men been watching the house?  
  
“When this happens,” the new man went on, “we are called in to undo the magic and return everything to a state of normality. For instance, we are here to deflate your sister, Miss Marjorie Dursley, and take young Miss Potter off of your hands for the time being.”  
  
The new man spoke in a very prim, proper voice. For some reason he put her in mind of an army officer, or perhaps a doctor. Harriet felt her heart lift, ‘ _take young Miss Potter off your hands…?_ ’  
  
“Oh, I-I see,” Uncle Vernon stammered.  
  
“Quite. So my colleague, Mister Horne, will attend to Miss Marjorie Dursley, and I shall attend to Miss Potter’s injuries,” the man continued.  
  
“Injuries?!”  
  
“Yes injuries. I see a very clear redness on her left cheek which looks very much as though it was left by an impact, most likely a slap given the distinct four digit imprint.”  
  
Harriet felt her cheek. It was still hot to the touch and stung as she touched it.  
  
“I-I-I see,” Uncle Vernon muttered.  
  
“Yes, Mister Dursley,” Mr Horne said stepping forward. “Believe it or not, we in the magical world do not take kindly to abusive behaviour towards children of any kind, be they magical or Muggle.”  
  
Uncle Vernon swallowed and his face was beginning to turn puce. “Now look here—”  
  
“I should also note the large bruise forming on her right thigh, Mister Dursley,” the new man added.  
  
Harriet looked down at her thigh and blushed realizing she was still only wearing a t-shirt and her underwear. She hugged her chest tighter. She was starting to feel ashamed again. Uncle Vernon’s face began to turn green.  
  
“Abuse is a very serious crime, Mister Dursley,” Mr Horne said. He sounded grave, but Harriet could not help but feel an underlying note of anger.  
  
“Abuse?!” Uncle Vernon snapped. “We’ve spent our hard earned money and given up valuable living space for—”  
  
“Allowing her the barest minimum to stay alive and actually function as a human being should, I am sure,” the new man said. “You are aware that emotional and psychological abuse are treated as equal to physical abuse under the law, Mister Dursley? And I believe with the slap-mark and bruise we easily have evidence of three forms of abuse going on at once.”  
  
“And even if we cannot directly prosecute you for the abuses, we can very easily notify Muggle authorities, who I am sure, will look into the matter quite closely. You enjoy living here at Number Four, Privet Drive, do you not, Mister Dursley? You enjoy your reputation as a respectable business man? Funny how rapidly that can change, isn’t it? One moment you are on top of the world, and the next you are disgraced,” Mr Horne said gravely.  
  
“Are you threatening me?” Uncle Vernon growled. His fat hands curled into fists.  
  
“Oh no, we are not threatening you, Mister Dursley. Merely informing you of the consequences should this activity continue,” the new man said.  
  
Harriet could see the wheels in Uncle Vernon’s head spin as he looked back and forth between the two men.  
  
“Is that understood, Mister Dursley?” Mr Horne pressed.  
  
Uncle Vernon did not respond right away. His mouth was moving as though he was trying to form words. Aunt Petunia was looking back and forth between her husband and the two men, her eyes wide with fear.  
  
Finally, Uncle Vernon growled, “Understood.”  
  
“Marvellous!” Mr Horne said clapping his hands together merrily.  
  
There was the sound of Dudley’s door opening down the hall. She heard Dudley’s groggy voice. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked. Harriet heard him waddling down the hall towards her room. He stepped into the doorway and blinked, his eyes going wide in shock. “Who’re you two?”  
  
“Wizards!” Mr Horne exclaimed.  
  
Dudley gasped, grabbed his four foot-wide buttocks and waddled as quickly as he could back down the hall to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.  
  
Mr Horne grinned. As he did, the man Harriet didn’t know strode past Uncle Vernon towards her. She pulled back a little by instinct and he paused, holding up his hands.  
  
“Shhh… it’s alright, dear. We’re here to help. No one’s going to hurt you anymore,” he said kneeling down beside her bed. Harriet noticed him wince.  
  
He held out his arms slowly and smiled. “Come here, Harriet, it’s alright.”  
  
Harriet looked over at Mr Horne, who gave her an encouraging nod. Harriet held out her arms which she noticed were shaking and put them around the new man’s neck. He scooped one arm under her tied legs and the other under her back lifting her gently from the bed. Though he lifted her easily, Harriet heard him grunt in pain as he got to his feet.  
  
Even if Harriet had never met this man before, she felt safe with him and rested her head on his shoulder. He carried her from the room, down the hall, and down the stairs to the sitting room. He sat her down on the sofa and knelt again in front of her. She was still shaking.  
  
“It’s alright, Harriet,” he said in his soft, calming voice. “My name is Jefferson Watkins. I am the Deputy headmaster at Rathlin, and a long-time friend of Headmaster Howe, who is, incidentally, Mr Horne. I’m sure you were completely fooled by his _brilliant_ disguise,” the man said in an ever-suffering voice. “I’m also a doctor, and I’m going to take care of you, okay?”  
  
Harriet felt her lip trembling and tears welling in her eyes. She yelped and leapt forward into the man’s arms again at a sudden loud popping noise from upstairs. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon cried out in shock and Ripper began barking again. She heard the squealing sound of a balloon letting out all its air rapidly and a loud thumping noise. There was a snarl and Uncle Vernon shouted in pain. Ripper had bitten Uncle Vernon again.  
  
Harriet leaned back, embarrassed that she was still so vulnerable and jumpy. She kept fighting back sniffles as she watched Doctor Watkins undo the clothesline from her legs for her and reach into a satchel at his side. He pulled out a bottle with the words _Belknapp’s Brilliant Bump and Bruise Balm_ on the label and opened the top. He applied some of the balm to a soft pad contained in the lid.  
  
“I’m just going to apply this to your bruise, is that alright?” he asked, still speaking in a soft, calming voice.  
  
Harriet felt her shoulders jump in a suppressed sob and she nodded. She had never felt so terrible in her life. Aunt Marge’s words kept flowing through her mind, stabbing at her. Tears clouded her vision as she heard them over and over again. _Freak. Degenerate. Whore._ She felt dirty again. She felt even dirtier than when she had learned Riddle was invading her dreams.  
  
“Shhh…” Doctor Watkins said and gently rested a hand on Harriet’s cheek. “It’s alright. You were told some very, very horrible things tonight but they’re not true… there is nothing wrong with you, Harriet… nothing at all. It’s okay to be upset, anyone would be.”  
  
Harriet sniffled and nodded. She wanted to believe him, she really did. But the pain was still too close in her chest for her to believe him fully.  
  
“There, all better,” she heard him say and she felt a soft cloth gently dabbing away her tears.  
  
Harriet blushed. She’d been so distracted she hadn’t even felt him apply the balm. The pain in her leg was gone, as was the bruise.  
  
“Thank you…” she said, so quietly she could barely hear herself.  
  
Professor Howe came down the stairs, and as he did the door to the cupboard under the stairs opened on its own and her trunk and broomstick flew out and over to Harriet and Doctor Watkins. The trunk lip popped open and her broomstick settled itself beside her on the sofa.  
  
Upstairs, Harriet heard Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon shout out in surprise. Harriet watched her books, her presents, her cards, her clothes, Hedwig’s old cage, even the bundles of clothesline come flying down the stairs. The items all fitted themselves neatly into her trunk, with the exception of Hedwig’s cage and a pair of jeans, socks, and her trainers. The trunk closed and Hedwig’s cage set down gently on top of it while the clothes landed in Harriet’s lap.  
  
Professor Howe flicked his wand again and the trunk, her broomstick, and Hedwig’s cage vanished. “Well, Harriet, if you wouldn’t mind getting dressed, we will be taking you to the place you’ll be spending the rest of your holidays now,” Professor Howe said, smiling warmly.  
  
“Wh-where are you taking me?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Someplace safe, with people who care for you,” Doctor Watkins said smiling.  
  
“The Weasleys?!” Harriet asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.  
  
The smiles on both men’s faces fell for the briefest of moments. “Unfortunately the Weasleys are still on their holiday in Egypt,” Professor Howe said. “Though trust me, were that not the case they would be our first choice. No, we found another even more secure location to take you.”  
  
Harriet blinked and the two men turned their backs to her.  
  
“Go ahead and get dressed, Harriet. We won’t look. You’ve suffered enough tonight,” Doctor Watkins said.  
  
Harriet nodded and dressed as quickly as she could. She was impeded by the fact she was still shaking from the stress of everything that had happened. “Finished,” she said and the two men turned back, still smiling.  
  
Harriet heard the sound of feet coming down the stairs. Uncle Vernon came in looking just as livid as ever. Both legs of his pyjama pants were now in bloody tatters.  
  
“Right, she’s forgotten the whole thing, thinks she just drank too much. Now I want you out of my house!” Uncle Vernon demanded.  
  
“Ah-ah-ah, just one moment,” Professor Howe said and produced a piece of parchment and a quill from nowhere. Harriet blinked looking at it and just barely stopped herself from gasping. It was her Hogsmeade permission form.  
  
“I just need you to sign this release form so we may take Harriet off your hands,” Professor Howe said. He once again gave Harriet the very subtlest of winks.  
  
Uncle Vernon scowled and took the quill and parchment. He seemed so eager to be rid of Harriet he signed without even looking at the parchment. It wasn’t until he handed it back that he started to wise up. “Wait a moment… I recognize that form…”  
  
“Oh I’m sure you do,” Professor Howe said grinning pleasantly.  
  
Uncle Vernon was about to say something more when suddenly the doorbell rang. “Who is it now?!” He snarled angrily.  
  
“Accidental Magic Reversal Squad,” called a friendly voice from behind the door.  
  
“Oh dear,” Professor Howe said.  
  
“That was faster than expected,” Doctor Watkins mumbled.  
  
Harriet looked back and forth between them. Uncle Vernon did too and dawning comprehension swept over his face. “Accidental Magic Reversal Squad? Isn’t that who _you two_ are supposed to be?” Uncle Vernon growled through gritted teeth.  
  
Professor Howe looked at his pocket-watch. “Got a plan?”  
  
“Yep. Run for it.” Doctor Watkins said.  
  
“Knew there was a reason I keep you around,” Professor Howe said re-pocketing his watch.  
  
“Had to be at least one.”  
  
Without another word, Professor Howe grabbed Harriet’s hand pulling her along as both men ran for the back door. Harriet could hear Uncle Vernon shouting indistinctly after them as the door flung itself open and all three darted through it one after another without slowing down. They hopped the garden fence, ran through the next garden, and out into the next street.  
  
There they turned and started running west. Harriet was trying her best to keep up with the two men but it was difficult as their legs were so much longer than hers. She looked up at them and to her surprise saw both of them were grinning as though they were having the time of their lives.  
  
“Just like old times then,” Professor Howe said, sounding out of breath as they kept going.  
  
“Just like last month I think would be more appropriate,” Doctor Watkins gasped.  
  
In spite of everything, the sight of their grinning faces and their laughing banter finally made Harriet smile for the first time since her birthday. Eventually they paused after running what felt like a mile. Harriet’s lungs burned and she doubled over, hands on her knees gasping. Doctor Watkins was grunting in pain, a hand on his hip as he leaned very heavily on his cane.  
  
“Think we lost them?” Doctor Watkins asked through gritted teeth.  
  
“We probably did the moment we left the back door, but better to be safe and all that,” Professor Howe gasped, trying to catch his breath.  
  
Both men broke down laughing slapping each other’s backs. Harriet grinned too but paused as she looked back towards the Dursleys. There, galloping after them down the middle of the road, lit up by a street lamp, was the biggest dog Harriet had ever seen. It was jet-black, with sharp, pointed ears and its eyes glinted bright green. It halted as it spotted Harriet watching and simply stared back at her. It was an eerie feeling. Even at this distance Harriet got a sense of intelligence from the dog. She didn’t know why, but she was completely convinced the dog was following them.  
  
Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins stopped laughing when they saw it. Professor Howe put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder.  
  
“Come on, Harriet, nothing to be afraid of… just a dog,” he said clearly trying to sound casual.  
  
“That’s… that’s not an ordinary dog,” Harriet said.  
  
Professor Howe sighed. “No, it is not.”  
  
“Then what is it?”  
  
“A Black Dog,” Professor Howe said. “Britain’s full of them.”  
  
“A Black Dog?”  
  
“Yes, a Gurt Dog by the looks of it,” Professor Howe said. He cleared his throat and called out to the dog. “The girl is safe with us. You are not needed tonight!”  
  
Harriet watched in amazement as the dog took one more step towards them, clearly debating continuing to follow them. It looked away, then back, then away again and finally turned and trotted off out of the street light and into the night.  
  
Professor Howe smiled down at her. “It’s a sign of good fortune. Gurt Dogs protect travellers, especially children. Formidable looking but it’s meant to be to ward away those who would do harm to the innocent and defenceless. Many say that Black Dogs are ill omens,” Professor Howe continued, “but they’re mostly misunderstood. They’re big and scary so people like to attach dark names to them: Barguist, the Grim, Gytrash, Padfoot.”  
  
“Well Padfoot’s not terribly scary,” Harriet admitted with a shrug. Professor Howe’s explanation of what the creature was made her wish the dog was still there. It seemed interesting now, and if it was a good omen she wasn’t anxious for it to leave after all that had happened.  
  
“Well then, fastest way to get from one end of the country to the other…” Professor Howe trailed off as he drew his wand again. He didn’t cast a charm with it. Instead, he stuck his wand out, using his right hand, and flicked it upwards as if hitchhiking.  
  
Harriet only had a single second to register this when there was an ear-splitting bang and her vision was blocked by a bright purple wall that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Harriet took a step back and looked up realizing it was not a wall, but a bright-purple, triple-decker bus.  
  
From the door hopped a young man in a conductor’s uniform the same garish shade of purple as the bus. He looked to be eighteen or nineteen, with copper hair, protruding ears, and more than a few spots.  
  
His voice cracked a couple times as he spoke. “Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for—”  
  
“We know, Stan,” Professor Howe said cutting the boy off. “Three passengers. Top floor. One bed. One hot chocolate. Let us off last. No questions asked. You never saw us get on. You never served us that hot chocolate. You never saw us get off.”  
  
Professor Howe handed Stan a small but heavy sack that clinked as though it was full of galleons. Stan’s face twisted into a knowing grin and he winked. “Say no more, gov’! Don’t welcome aboard the Knight Bus! Don’t make your way to the top floor. I won’t be up with your hot chocolate and I most certainly will not see you off in the morning on our last stop!” Stan said and stepped aside.  
  
Doctor Watkins climbed in first and Harriet followed, with Professor Howe taking up the rear. Stan hopped in and shut the door tight behind them. Harriet was led up two flights of spiralling stairs to the top of the bus, which was empty.  
  
They led Harriet to a bed and each took seats in comfy armchairs next to it. Stan brought up the hot chocolate and handed it to Harriet.  
  
As he bent down, he suddenly looked suspicious. “’ang on… aren’t—”  
  
“I believe the condition was no questions,” Doctor Watkins said, warning in his voice.  
  
Stan’s face went a little white and he simply bowed and headed back towards the stairs. Professor Howe grinned and took a tighter hold of his chair. “Hold on.”  
  
Harriet was about to ask what he meant, but she did not get the chance. The moment she opened her mouth, the bus lurched forward, knocking her onto her side and dropping her hot chocolate to the floor.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet didn’t know how long she had been sleeping. She didn’t remember falling asleep, or even lying down. What’s more, once she woke up, she wasn’t sure exactly how she could have fallen asleep in the first place. First of all, her mind was still full of the memories of everything that had happened that night. Second of all, she was still on a bus that seemed to be careening across the countryside, shaking and swerving violently.  
  
Looking out the window, Harriet saw it was nearly dawn. Trees and buildings whipped past the window as though the bus was moving hundreds of miles an hour. Harriet looked around to see the tired but smiling faces of Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins looking back at her from their armchairs beside her bed. She noted that both of them had removed their sunshine-yellow robes in favour of normal clothes. She also saw that Professor Howe had returned all his features back to normal and ditched the oversized spectacles.  
  
“Goodness, you slept well,” Professor Howe said, stretching and cracking his knuckles.  
  
“I—I guess I did,” Harriet muttered, reaching up and redoing her pony-tail. “Where are we?”  
  
“Aboard the Knight Bus, nearly to our destination of Glen Raglan,” Professor Howe said cheerily.  
  
“Glen Raglan?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Yes, a safe place,” Professor Howe said. He looked down and leaned over a chess-set, studying it intently. It looked to be a perfectly normal chess-set. Unlike Wizard’s Chess, the pieces did not look as though they could move. However, the moment Harriet thought that, the pieces began to slide around the board, moving in patterns she could not decipher, but it seemed to make sense to Professor Howe.  
  
“Message from Morrisey,” he muttered to Doctor Watkins.  
  
“What’s that?” Doctor Watkins asked, lowering the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ he was holding.  
  
“Albus just found out. So did the Minister. They’re not happy,” Professor Howe said, sitting back in his chair with the faintest hint of a grin.  
  
Doctor Watkins chuckled. “Not happy about what? About what that woman did to Harriet or that we removed her from Privet Drive without informing them?”  
  
“Can’t it be both?” Professor Howe replied, his grin widening.  
  
Doctor Watkins rolled his eyes and resumed reading his newspaper. Harriet looked at the large picture on the front page. It was Sirius Black again. Harriet shivered at the sight of his gaunt, skeletal face.  
  
There was something very unsettling about Black. It wasn’t just his thin and waxy skin or his long, shaggy, unwashed hair. It was his eyes. If his eyes weren’t moving back and forth, Harriet would have thought it was a Muggle picture. The worst part, though, was the deep, burning anger glittering in the eyes.  
  
“S-so, he’s still on the loose, huh?” Harriet asked.  
  
Doctor Watkins looked at the front page and Professor Howe furrowed his brow. “Ah, yes. Yes he still is it seems,” Professor Howe said.  
  
Harriet looked at Professor Howe, biting her lip, thinking. “Is he… is he really as dangerous as everyone’s said?” she asked. If Black had been capable of killing thirteen people with a single curse before spending twelve years in Azkaban, Harriet hated to think of what he would be capable of now.  
  
Professor Howe’s lips tightened. “Well that’s an interesting question. He is _unpredictable_ , which makes him rather dangerous. You see Harriet that is part of the reason we are relocating you.”  
  
Harriet blinked. “What?”  
  
“It seems to be the standing theory that you are one of two people who Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban to come after,” Professor Howe explained.  
  
Harriet’s eyes widened. “M-me? But why? What does he have against me?”  
  
Immediately, she wished she hadn’t asked, as she felt rather stupid. If Sirius Black had been Lord Voldemort’s right-hand man, then of course he would want to come after Harriet in revenge. However, Professor Howe did not seem to mind.  
  
“It’s a delicate matter, Harriet,” Professor Howe said, but he paused as Doctor Watkins cleared his throat. “What?” he asked.  
  
“I thought we’d discussed this?” Doctor Watkins asked, not looking up from his paper.  
  
“We did and I thought we agreed my plan was best.”  
  
“No we discussed it and agreed my plan was the more prudent, at which point you apparently decided to go ahead anyway.”  
  
“I certainly did not. I wouldn’t tell her such delicate information on the Knight Bus,” Professor Howe said in a placating tone, leaving Doctor Watkins looking somewhat relieved.  
  
Professor Howe smiled at Harriet. “I’ll tell her when we arrive.”  
  
“Howe!”  
  
There was no time to reply as the Knight Bus screeched to a halt. Harriet was thrown onto her back and felt the bed skid a couple of feet towards the front of the bus. The conductor, Stan Shunpike, poked his head up over the edge of the spiral staircase, rather like a spotty, purple gopher.  
  
“Here you aren’t!” Stan said in a cheery tone. “This is not Glen Raglan, and it’s not our final stop of the night—”  
  
“Thank you, Stan, we got the point,” Doctor Watkins said getting to his feet.  
  
Harriet stood and Professor Howe vanished his chess set. The three climbed down the spiral staircase after Stan and disembarked from the bus. The bus gave off a loud bang and vanished as it rocketed away, too fast to be seen.  
  
“Well, here we are then,” Professor Howe said. He pointed to a wooded lane. She tilted her head back and gasped seeing a large, ornate sign that stretched over the lane. As Harriet looked closer her eyes went even wider in the realization it was not a sign, but two trees that had been grown together, their branches spelling the words “Glen Raglan.”  
  
“Off we go,” Professor Howe said and put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder, guiding her down the lane. The trees were so thick that they blocked all light from the coming dawn and Professor Howe had to draw his wand to light the path. Somewhere nearby Harriet could hear the rushing of a river. After about five minutes they rounded a corner and Harriet’s jaw fell open. They had come to a large, exquisite manor house.  
  
The manor was made of white brick, with a high, grey, gabled roof. The edges of the gables were lined with battlements and there were chimneys everywhere. The corners of the manor were tall turrets, topped with pointed roofs and intricate spires. Here and there on the walls were bay windows. What was even more amazing was the way it seemed to spring right up from the middle of a river that acted as a sort of moat around the building, with a small drawbridge covering the large front door. Over both was another banner with the words “McIntyre Manor”.  
  
“Wow…” Harriet gasped. “Who-who lives—wait… McIntyre?!”  
  
Both men simply smiled down at her in reply when the little drawbridge began lowering, setting down on their side of the bank as they approached. The front door opened and four people stepped out and waved eagerly. They were silhouetted by the light behind them but as Harriet, Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins started across the drawbridge Harriet saw it was Scott and Kieran’s parents.  
  
“Well hello Miss Potter!” Mister McIntyre said in a boisterous, jovial tone. “Welcome to our home!”  
  
“We’re so glad you made it safe,” Mrs McIntyre said as she and Mrs O’Brien rushed forward to hug Harriet.  
  
Harriet was pleased, but quite taken aback at this greeting. While Mr McIntyre was still beaming, Mr O’Brien was looking anxious as he shook hands with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins. She wondered if they were worried about Sirius Black.  
  
“Now, let us get inside b’fore anything else,” Mr O’Brien said.  
  
“Quite agree,” Doctor Watkins said and they all stepped inside.  
  
Harriet looked around eagerly. “Where’s Scott?” she asked and looked at the O’Brien’s. “Is Kieran here too?”  
  
“Scott’s still asleep, dear,” Mrs McIntyre said. “We knew that you were going to be brought straight here if something were to happen, but we didn’t know if or when that would be.”  
  
“And Kieran is back at our house,” Mrs O’Brien said. “We live in the little house right across the road.”  
  
“Headmaster Howe sent a message ahead to us that you were finally coming at the same time he sent your belongings, but Scott had already nodded off by then,” Mr McIntyre said. “Are you hungry? We can get you some breakfast. Our new cook is fantastic. Or just a little bite if you would like to get some sleep?”  
  
“I… I am a little hungry,” Harriet admitted. “But I am pretty tired.”  
  
“Good, good,” Mr McIntyre said merrily. “Whichever would suit you best. You are a guest in our home. Your comfort and safety are our only concern.”  
  
They passed through a large room that reminded Harriet of the entrance hall at Hogwarts, but not nearly as big, and made of bright red wood instead of stone. There was a large wooden staircase leading up to the second floor, with doors on the far wall and both of the side doors.  
  
They followed Mr and Mrs McIntyre down a long hallway. It was lit by silver candelabras and lined with portraits. Harriet was surprised to see that at least half of them seemed to be perfectly normal Muggle portraits, unlike magical ones where the occupants could move and talk.  
  
Mr McIntyre stopped and opened a door leading off the hall. They all stepped through and Harriet found herself in a sitting room. Everyone took seats around a large coffee table, Mrs McIntyre directing Harriet towards the most comfortable of the armchairs.  
  
“Well,” Mr McIntyre said as he took a seat. “I suppose you’d like to know why exactly you’re here?”  
  
Harriet nodded.  
  
“Well,” he looked at Professor Howe who gave a single nod. “It’s… it’s not a happy story, Harriet.” Despite his jovial appearance when she had arrived, Mr McIntyre now looked very grave. “Well, you see, it involves Sirius Black.”  
  
Harriet nodded. “Yeah… Professor Howe said that he was after me.”  
  
“Well, aye,” Mr O’Brien said. “But it’s more complicated than that, love.”  
  
“How so?” Harriet asked. She was starting to feel more worried.  
  
“Once upon a time, Sirius Black and your father were best friends,” Professor Howe said.  
  
Mr O’Brien, Mrs O’Brien and Mrs McIntyre all gave Professor Howe a disapproving look, but he kept looking past them at Harriet, unabashed. Mr McIntyre merely looked as though he had lock jaw. Judging by the looks on all the other faces, this was not what Mr O’Brien had been about to say.  
  
“W-what?”  
  
“Yes, the best of friends. He was even best-man in your parent’s wedding. And after that, he apparently became a spy for Lord Voldemort,” Professor Howe went on.  
  
Predictably, everyone in the room except her, Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins shivered to hear Lord Voldemort’s name. However, something about that statement seemed odd.  
  
“Wait… he was my dad’s friend for that long and then he became a spy?”  
  
“Well, no one knows exactly when he became a spy,” Professor Howe said casually. “There are theories of course.”  
  
“Yes… there are _theories_ ,” Doctor Watkins said with a tone of warning in his voice.  
  
“Didn’t… didn’t anyone question him about it?” Harriet asked, trying to comprehend what she was being told.  
  
“Funnily enough, no one did,” Professor Howe said. “He was arrested after the incident in which thirteen people were killed and sent straight to Azkaban without trial.”  
  
There was a moment’s silence after this. The O’Briens and the McIntyres were looking at Professor Howe with surprise. Apparently even they did not know that bit of information.  
  
“Without a trial?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Indeed,” Professor Howe said. He sounded oddly bitter. “Anyway, long story short, his ties to your father is an unfortunate connection that you have with Black and I believe it is dictating his current actions. The Minister of Magic and Professor Dumbledore do not want you to know this information,” Professor Howe said. “They are under the strange delusion it will keep you ‘happy’ to remain ignorant. However, I think you have it in you to handle this information. You have the right to know.”  
  
Harriet didn’t react. She was still trying to process it all. “But… why…? What actions…? How does everyone know he’s after me anyway?” Harriet asked. Now that she was getting at least some answers, she wanted more.  
  
“Apparently, before his escape, Black had been talking in his sleep for nearly a month. Granted most prisoners in Azkaban go mad and talk in their sleep but this was different,” Professor Howe said. “He muttered three phrases in particular over and over again; ‘save Harriet,’ ‘he’s at Hogwarts,’ and ‘kill the traitor.’”  
  
Harriet furrowed her brow. “Save me…? From what?”  
  
Mr O’Brien grimaced. “What we think it means is he wishes to turn you to the Dark Arts.”  
  
Harriet chewed her lip in thought. “T-turn me to the Dark Arts? Even though I defeated Lord Voldemort?”  
  
“Even though you defeated Lord Voldemort or _because_ you defeated Lord Voldemort?” Professor Howe asked darkly. “You are powerful, clever, and gifted Harriet, never forget that.”  
  
Harriet shivered and hugged her chest, looking at her knees which were bouncing from her anxiety. “But… why…?” she asked, greatly regretting having the conversation.  
  
“Well, you already said it. You stopped Lord Voldemort,” Mr O’Brien said. “That can mean one of two things to a mind like Black’s… either kill you for revenge… or that you are an even more powerful witch to follow than Lord Voldemort was.”  
  
Harriet grimaced. There it was again. Just like Professor Dumbledore had told her at the end of last term. Inside everyone there was the capacity to do great good and great evil. But Harriet just wanted to live. Of course she wanted to do good, but she certainly didn’t want to do evil of any kind.  
  
Mr O’Brien leaned forward and put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “The Dark Arts are a terrible thing, Harriet,” he said. “Those who follow them are capable of the greatest evil. The lives of others mean absolutely nothing to them. All that matters is their own power. But that is a reflection of who Black is, not you.”  
  
“But…” Harriet was thinking hard. “Why did he become a spy after all that time? Or was he a spy the whole time?”  
  
“Those are very good questions,” Professor Howe said, enigmatically.  
  
“Well… we… we can’t answer those questions really,” Mrs McIntyre said awkwardly and patted Harriet’s hand. “What matters is you’re safe.”  
  
Harriet shook her head as though shaking off a fly. That was too much to take in at once, so she changed the subject. “But… those last two can’t be about me… I mean he named me but—”  
  
“Well… if Voldemort had spies in our ranks, we certainly had spies of our own in his,” Professor Howe said. “One of those spies works at Hogwarts today. The Ministry believes that the spy is the ‘traitor’ Black is referring to. And it is he who is in far greater danger of being murdered than you in my opinion. However, the Ministry continues to believe that you are Black’s primary target, as he did name you.”  
  
“But _you_ don’t think he’s out to kill me?” Harriet asked.  
  
“No, I do not,” Professor Howe said.  
  
Harriet glanced around at the other faces. No one looked convinced of Professor Howe’s theory. Harriet spoke up again. “I just… I don’t get it… why would he want to turn me instead of kill me? Not that I want him to kill me, but I don’t want him to try and turn me to the Dark Arts either!”  
  
“Well, there is the problem. He’s unpredictable. After so many years in Azkaban, it is impossible to know just how unhinged he has become. I was not allowed to make a proper study of him while he was in custody. But you see what has everyone the most worried about the situation is not only was Sirius Black the best-man in your parents’ wedding, but after you were born he was even at your christening—”  
  
“Professor Howe! Really!” Mrs McIntyre spluttered in shock.  
  
“That is enough!” Mrs O’Brien agreed.  
  
Both were glaring at Professor Howe. Mr O’Brien looked as though he agreed with the two women, but he seemed resigned to the truth now that it was out.  
  
“He… he was at my christening…?” Harriet asked, mouth gaping.  
  
Mr O’Brien sighed. “Yes…” he said miserably. “Irene and I were there that day,” he gave a short, mirthless laugh. “So was Kieran come to think of it, but he was nought but three months. Anyway, yes… it’s so strange now… remembering that day… Black seemed so genuinely happy… he was crying…”  
  
“So that’s why we’ve been keeping a rather close eye on you since the escape,” Professor Howe butted in. “Because he may try anything… he may in fact be out to kill you in revenge, or to convert you, frankly we just cannot be sure.”  
  
Harriet shivered and hugged her legs even tighter, rocking.  This was too much, this was way too much. She wished they hadn’t told her, not after all that had happened last night. She didn’t want to know that Sirius Black had been friends with her father, or the best-man in their wedding, or at Harriet’s christening. She didn’t want anything to do with him. She didn’t want him to take her away or to kill her. She just wanted to smile and be happy for a change.  
  
“We know this is hard, Harriet, but personally, I—I agree with Professor Howe. I believe it is better for you to be told this in a controlled environment with people who care for you, rather than hearing about it elsewhere. With everything going on, I think it is inevitable that you will learn all this information eventually. Just know that we’re here for you, and we’ll do all we can to protect you and make you happy while you’re here,” Mr McIntyre said, doing his best to smile.  
  
Harriet shivered again and fished around for something else to talk about.  
  
“So, who is the spy?” she asked.  
  
Professor Howe started to respond when the door to the room opened again. Harriet turned, expecting to see Scott but instead saw no one there. She blinked in confusion when she heard a very familiar voice speak from somewhere near her elbow and the smell of fresh quiche, sausages and tea filled her nose. She looked down to see what appeared to be a floating silver tray that was indeed laden with quiche and sausages and tea.  
  
“Breakfast, Sir and Lady,” said the unmistakable voice of—  
  
“DOBBY!?” Harriet gasped at the floating food tray next to her. It lifted and Harriet saw the tell-tale tennis-ball green eyes, pointy nose, and bat ears of Dobby the house-elf.  
  
Dobby’s overlarge eyes went, if possible, even wider and before Harriet even saw what happened the tray of food was rattling on the coffee table and Dobby had leapt up, hugging Harriet tight around the chest and sobbing in happiness.  
  
“Oh Harriet Potter! Dobby never thought he would see you again so soon!”  
  
Harriet looked up at the McIntyres who were beaming back.  
  
“W-when… how?”  
  
“Well… the poor dear turned up on our doorstep looking for work,” Mrs McIntyre said smiling down at Dobby.  
  
“ _Proper_ work,” Mr McIntyre added, his eyes twinkling.  
  
“With _paying_ and _everything_ Harriet Potter!” Dobby said, his eyes reverent as he looked back at Mr and Mrs McIntyre. “My new Sir and Lady give Dobby ten galleons a week! Dobby wanted less, Miss, but they said to Dobby they would put it in his account whether he wanted it or not, so Dobby had better accept it or it would all go to waste! Dobby is saving it, Miss; Dobby thinks it will do great good some day! And Dobby gets one day off per week!”  
  
“And such wonderful tales he told too of the sweet, kind, brave, and good young lady who freed him from his cruel former owners,” Mr McIntyre chuckled and winked. “I can’t imagine who he could have been referring to.”  
  
Dobby’s eyes welled up with more tears. “Oh yes, Miss, oh yes… Dobby is so much happier here. Such kind and wonderful wizards… young Master McIntyre is so kind and keeps his room so clean so as not to inconvenience Dobby… never has Dobby known so many wizards who cared for him so much…”  
  
Mrs O’Brien smiled now. “You are a person, too, Dobby… someday the rest of the world will see that too.”  
  
Dobby beamed. So did Harriet. All her dark thoughts about Sirius Black, Lord Voldemort, her parents’ death and Aunt Marge’s attack had vanished with Dobby’s arrival. Dobby had found work like he always wanted with some of the nicest people Harriet knew. She was free from the Dursleys for the rest of the summer, staying with some of her best friends. And best of all, Professor Howe had tricked Uncle Vernon into signing her Hogsmeade permission form for her. All in all, it was shaping up already to be one of the best summers Harriet had ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherrod Howe and Jefferson Watkins property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
> 
> Kieran and Scott's parents, property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	4. The Best Summer

“While secrets between friends are never good, often times when someone does not want to tell you something, they have a very, very good reason not to do so.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
Harriet couldn’t fall back asleep. She felt just like she had when she arrived at the Weasleys’ the summer before. She was just too excited to sleep. After Professor Howe, Doctor Watkins and the O’Briens left Mr and Mrs McIntyre showed Harriet to her room.  
  
It was just as beautiful as the rest of the house. The walls had been painted a deep, forest green with a sky-blue ceiling. The furniture was made of the same reddish cherry wood as the stairs in the entrance chamber. The bed was enormous, with a green tartan comforter and a tall headboard covered in an intricate engraving. The colour scheme made Harriet giggle in spite of herself. It felt like she was in the middle of a forest.  
  
Harriet stepped closer to study the engraving. It showed a tall, stately man with a stern, purposeful, bearded face. He was wearing a long, almost ankle length tunic with a stylized lion on the chest. His arms were covered by chainmail sleeves and gauntlets, his legs by chainmail leggings and matching greaves. He wore a chainmail coif on his head a crown with spade points running around the top.  
  
A thirty year-old man knelt at his feet. He was not wearing any armour, dressed simply in peasant clothing; cloth tunic and leggings and tattered, leather shoes. The standing man, who Harriet could only assume was a king of some kind, was laying a sword across the young man’s shoulder.  
  
“Our ancestor, Cynwrig McIntyre,” Mr McIntyre said smiling, “receiving his knighthood from Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland, in 1319.”  
  
“Cynwrig McIntyre?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Aye, he was a simple Irish soldier who fought gallantly in support of Edward the Bruce, Robert’s brother, when Edward led a campaign to reclaim Ireland from the English,” Mr McIntyre explained. “Cynwrig fought with Edward from the beginning of the campaign in 1315 to the Battle of Faughart in 1318, where Edward lost his life and the campaign came to an end. Cynwrig was singled out for his gallantry in the campaign and the King rewarded Cynwrig with a knighthood and the land of Glen Raglan.”  
  
“Was the manor here too?” Harriet asked. She was starting to find the information very interesting. She had known Scott’s family went back a long ways, and they were obviously wealthy, but she’d never known how wealthy or how far back.  
  
“No,” Mrs McIntyre said looking around the room. “The Manor was built some time later. Ground was broken in 1536 wasn’t it, Dorian?”  
  
“Aye, just after magic finally sprouted up in the family.”  
  
Harriet looked back at the engraving of Cynwrig, thinking. “So your family wasn’t originally wizards?”  
  
Mrs McIntyre smiled. “No, Cynwrig was a Muggle, dear.”  
  
Harriet nodded. A bed seemed an odd place for such a dedication to someone so important to the family, but Harriet supposed it wasn’t her place to comment. The king did look rather imposing, but Harriet supposed that falling asleep with a king watching over her wouldn’t be so bad.  
  
It also turned on a light in Harriet’s memory. She remembered Riddle calling the McIntyres the “worst of blood-traitors.” Was this what Riddle was talking about? The McIntyre line looked like it went back a long ways, but it wasn’t always magical, and it was still around. Meanwhile, Slytherin’s line by the sound of it seemed to be gone except for Lord Voldemort himself.  
  
“This was my cousin Jess’ old room,” Mr McIntyre said warmly. “She was often sickly as a child, and my father had this bed made for her especially.” He ran a hand over the engraving of Cynwrig. “He wanted to make sure our fore-father and his king were always watching over her.”  
  
Mrs McIntyre’s smile widened. “Now they’ll both watch over you while you’re here.”  
  
Harriet flushed and looked back at the engraving. _Well okay, that makes perfect sense now_ , she thought.  
  
Mrs McIntyre strode to a tall, intricately carved wardrobe. “Now, I know you don’t… well… we have some of Jess’ old clothes in here as well, if you would like,” she said awkwardly.  
  
“Well, I… I don’t wanna impose,” Harriet stammered.  
  
Mr McIntyre smiled. “Nonsense, Jess knew you were coming to stay here. She was the one who suggested you use her old room and said whatever you want is yours. You’re a _little_ taller than Jess was, but I’m sure Dobby would not hesitate to alter anything to fit you as quickly as he can.”  
  
Harriet blushed. “Thank you very much, really, I… I never expected—”  
  
Mrs McIntyre crossed over and put her hands on Harriet’s shoulder, looking at her very seriously. “Harriet dear, it is perfectly fine. Like we said, your comfort and safety are our only concern.”  
  
Harriet felt her cheeks get even hotter but she finally smiled and nodded. “Okay, thank you still.”  
  
“Good,” Mr McIntyre said chuckling. “Try on whatever you’d like, and the bathroom is through that door there. You may bathe to your heart’s content and try on anything you’d like and if it doesn’t fit, just call out Dobby’s name.”  
  
“And to get to Scott’s room, take a left out the door and it is three doors down on the right, dear,” Mrs McIntyre said. “Feel free to wake him when you’re ready.”  
  
Harriet giggled and nodded.  
  
An hour later, Harriet was knocking on Scott’s door. She had washed up as quickly as she could, but the water was so warm and the tub so comfortable Harriet had been unable to help relaxing. It felt as though the water was sucking all of the bad and scary things from her mind for her. She was safe, she was staying with friends, and she could go into Hogsmeade. That was all that mattered.  
  
After her bath, Harriet had spent almost as much time going through the old clothes. She picked out what she wanted (or at least what she felt comfortable with) and called for Dobby. The elf appeared before she even finished his name.  
  
He had done a marvellous job, the clothes fit and looked just like brand new, even if old fashioned. She wore a white t-shirt underneath bib-overall shorts, white, blue-striped tube socks and denim trainers.  
  
Harriet knocked again, louder this time. There was a disgruntled moan from behind the door. “Muuuuummmmm… it’s only ten!”  
  
“Yeah and there’s _lots_ to do!” Harriet called.  
  
There was a pause and the sound of scrambling. “Ow,” she heard Scott grunt following a loud thump.  
  
“You okay?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Kicked the bedpost,” Scott grumbled. The shuffling resumed and finally Scott opened the door.  
  
He was beaming and Harriet leapt up hugging him tight around the neck. “Ack!” Scott grunted but laughed and hugged her back.  
  
“You made it, eh?” He asked grinning as Harriet let go.  
  
“Yep, Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins brought me real early this morning,” Harriet replied.  
  
Scott looked jealous. “What? Why didn’t Mum and Dad wake me?”  
  
“They might have tried but you don’t seem to wake up easily,” she teased.  
  
Scott rolled his eyes, “Yeah-yeah,” he muttered but smiled.  
  
“Thank you so much for the new cage for Hedwig, by the way! I haven’t had time to put it together though.”  
  
“You’re welcome! And that’s alright, we can put it together tonight—OH! We have to go get Kieran!”  
  
“Definitely!” Harriet laughed.  
  
They were off. Scott pointed out all the things that Harriet had missed on her way in while it had still been dark. There was a lovely gazebo where they often ate their meals in the summer, the old blackthorn tree Jess had used to make her first wand, the line where the magical protection surrounding Glen Raglan ended.  
  
Harriet felt a shiver as she crossed the line. It somehow felt as though a weight had been added to her shoulders, and some of her worries crept back in. Was she still safe? Was she allowed to cross this line? If she was supposed to be staying at Glen Raglan for her protection shouldn’t she still be inside?  
  
However, Scott merely smiled down at her and they kept walking. It was just then that Harriet noticed how much taller than her he had gotten. He had always had at least an inch on her, but now he had to be three inches taller than her, and Harriet herself had grown.  
  
They reached the end of the lane where the Knight Bus had dropped Harriet off. She looked around but she did not see a house just across the road.  
  
“I thought Mrs O’Brien said—”  
  
Scott laughed, cutting her off. “Well, they live _relatively_ right across the road,” Scott said. “Glen Raglan is, well… pretty big…” he admitted, his cheeks going pink. He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly.  
  
Harriet bit her lip. She knew Scott didn’t like talking about his family’s status or money. And now Harriet could see why. Harriet had felt embarrassed over her own inheritance last summer after seeing how little money the Weasleys had in their vault. She could only imagine how Scott felt.  
  
“This is where Kieran and I meet up,” Scott said, changing the subject.  
  
“Really?” Harriet asked, marking the spot in her memory. “He does live a bit further away than it seemed, doesn’t he?”  
  
“Well… we’re just about there, really,” Scott admitted. “We try and meet up ‘half-way.’ I never really want him to think I’m treating him like he’s a… you know… but I have always made sure I’m the one who walks the further distance.”  
  
“Yeah,” Harriet nodded, knowing exactly what Scott was having trouble saying. She remembered how she had felt seeing Tori, one of the American refugees, trying to help Kieran through the portrait hole at the start of the previous school year. Sure, Kieran had his leg, but he could still walk and get around.  
  
After another five minutes they came across a modest two-story house. It had beige wooden siding instead of stone and a grey and brown shingled roof. On the left side of the front door was a set of simple sliding windows while the right had a large bay window. There was a tall brick chimney on the right side of the house and two gabled windows on the second floor with a skylight in between. A row of neatly trimmed bushes lined the front of the house.  
  
The pair walked up to the front door and Scott didn’t even knock, just opened it and called out: “Hello! Company!”  
  
“Hello, hello!” Harriet heard Mrs O’Brien call and Scott stepped inside.  
  
Harriet followed and they entered into a short hallway. The walls were a soothing crème colour, with a dark hardwood floor and long area rugs. To the right was an open doorway to the sitting room while to the left was clearly a bedroom. There were two more doors off the hallway and one down at the very end. By the sight of the hanging pots and pans and the cabinets Harriet was sure that was the kitchen.  
  
Mrs O’Brien stepped through the door to the kitchen. Somehow, Harriet had expected her to be wearing an apron, cooking something as Mrs Weasley so often was. She was greatly surprised to see Mrs O’Brien wearing a tennis outfit with a towel draped over her shoulders. She had clearly worked up a sweat.  
  
“Hello you two,” Mrs O’Brien said walking towards them. “I’d give you both hugs but—” she laughed and wiped her forehead with the towel.  
  
“Understood, Mrs O’Brien,” Scott said smiling. “Kieran up yet?”  
  
“Nah, still sleeping as best I know,” Mrs O’Brien said.  
  
There was the sound of a slamming screen door and Mr O’Brien stepped into the kitchen doorway, also dressed for tennis and carrying two rackets.  
  
“Oh there yeh two are,” he said smiling. “The lug’s still asleep most like’, so you wanna be sure to knock extra hard.”  
  
Scott laughed. “Don’t gotta tell me! Come on!” he said and Harriet followed him into the kitchen.  
  
The kitchen was more modern than the Weasleys’. There was a refrigerator and a modern gas-range with nice white counters and wooden cabinets. There were three more doors, one that looked like it led to a basement, another that led upstairs, and finally a door that led out into the back garden.  
  
Scott led her up the stairs where they came to a little landing with two more doors. Scott grinned at her and made a “shhhh” gesture and knocked loudly.  
  
“Scoooooooooooott it’s only ten-thirty!” Harriet heard Kieran protest through the door. Harriet giggled quietly.  
  
“Aye, got a surprise for ya,” Scott called back. He winked at Harriet who nodded.  
  
“What is it?” Kieran muttered. Scott grinned and didn’t reply. Harriet heard more rustling and the creaking of a bed. The door opened and Harriet gasped as Kieran was revealed. His hair was a complete mess, but that wasn’t what caught Harriet off guard. What caught Harriet off guard was the fact Kieran was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.  
  
“OY!” Kieran shouted slamming the door shut. “Honestly! You could have given me a _little_ more warning than that!”  
  
For the first time in her life, Harriet actually fell over from laughing.  
  


### * * * *

  
“Fishing?”  
  
“Aye, fishing.”  
  
“You want _me_ to go fishing?”  
  
“You wanted to know what we do for fun.” Kieran had finally got dressed and they were headed back to Scott’s.  
  
“Heh, well I coulda offered ta play tennis,” Kieran said laughing.  
  
“Aye, Kieran does have a killer serve.”  
  
“Followed by killer pain in ma knee, yeah,” Kieran muttered.  
  
Scott rolled his eyes. Harriet bit her lip thinking. She wasn’t anxious to make Kieran uncomfortable talking about his leg, even if he didn’t seem bothered by it. It was often a part of Kieran and Scott’s banter.  
  
“So… what’s so exciting about fishing?”  
  
“Quidditch players,” Kieran mumbled and Harriet rolled her eyes.  
  
“Well, nothing, that’s kinda the point,” Scott laughed. “It’s to help you relax. It’s peaceful.”  
  
“Well, I suppose I can deal with peaceful…”  
  
“Well I mean it’s not got much on killing basilisk with a sword,” Kieran teased.  
  
Harriet punched his shoulder.  
  
They got back to McIntyre Manor and Scott stopped inside the front door, opening a closet and pulling out three long fishing poles.  
  
“Hello, you three. Fishing?” Scott’s mother asked as she passed through the entrance hall.  
  
“Aye,” Scott said handing Harriet a pole.  
  
“Well, be careful, the river has a real strong current,” she said.  
  
“We know, mum,” Scott said in an ever-suffering tone. Mrs McIntyre shot him a dirty look and he blushed sheepishly. “Sorry Mum… we’ll be careful.”  
  
“Good,” she said putting a smile back on. She strode off but Scott kept his abashed demeanour as they grabbed some wellingtons, a picnic basket of sandwiches, and a blanket that Dobby brought them and headed back outside.  
  
They found a spot in the shade a little ways down the river, out of sight of the manor. They rolled out the blanket and sat down on it. Kieran broke out the can of worms.  
  
“Okay, what else is there?” Harriet asked after twenty minutes. Kieran and Scott almost dropped their rods laughing.  
  
Harriet pouted and cast her line again. The current was rapid as Mrs McIntyre had said. They all had to keep casting and recasting as the current carried their lines downstream. However, after another fifteen minutes or so, Harriet was finally starting to get in the groove of fishing. It was very peaceful, the three of them just sitting and chatting about life.  
  
Harriet filled them in on her summer with the Dursleys. She got right up to the night Aunt Marge attacked her when she finally paused. She didn’t know how to talk about that subject just yet.  
  
“Then what happened?” Kieran asked, giving his line an excited twitch before looking disappointed and reeling in his line to recast.  
  
“I… well… I woke up my aunt and she just… went crazy,” Harriet said, trying to sound casual.  
  
She didn’t know why she wasn’t telling them about what she had been doing when Aunt Marge came in. It had been childish to still play games like that, but that wasn’t the reason. Aunt Marge’s words still ate at her, the look of horror and disgust on her face. But why, why did that hurt her so badly? Aunt Marge had called her all sorts of mean, horrible things before. Why did that make her feel so shameful?  
  
Fortunately, Harriet was distracted from her thoughts when there was finally a tug on her line.  
  
“Set the hook! Set the hook!” Scott said excitedly.  
  
“How!?” Harriet said starting to panic.  
  
“Just give the rod a twitch back!” Kieran exclaimed.  
  
Harriet did as told. The fish felt huge as it tugged on the line, though Harriet wasn’t sure. She had never fished before.  
  
“Okay you got it!” Kieran said. “Reel it in, but not too hard, don’t wanna snap the line.”  
  
“Like this?” Harriet asked, fumbling a little.  
  
“Pull back on the rod and then reel the line in as you let it down, then repeat,” Scott explained.  
  
“Here, I’ll help,” Kieran said and moved behind Harriet. He took hold of the rod above and below her hands and pulled back and let the rod down. “Now reel.”  
  
Harriet nodded and turned the reel handle as Kieran let the rod down. He pulled back again and Harriet reeled in quickly once more when he let the rod back down.  
  
“Got it?” He asked. Harriet swallowed and nodded. For some reason, she really did not want him to let go of the rod, but he did.  
  
Harriet kept doing as Kieran had shown her, and finally the fish came to the surface.  
  
“Nice perch!” Scott said looking impressed. “Couple pounds at least!”  
  
Harriet beamed as Kieran took hold of the fish and took the hook out. He smiled and handed it to Harriet. It felt slippery but not as slimy as she had thought it was going to feel. It wasn’t a very large fish, but Harriet was impressed by how strong it felt in her hands as it wriggled.  
  
“We shoulda brought the—oh wait, keep forgetting! Dobby!” Scott called. The house-elf appeared next to them with a pop that surprised Harriet so much she almost dropped the fish.  
  
“Yes, Master Scott—oh! Congratulations Harriet Potter! It is a most fine fish!”  
  
“Th-thanks, Dobby,” Harriet blushed.  
  
Scott smiled. “Quick! Get the camera for us so we can get a picture and put the fish back in the river!”  
  
“At once Master Scott!” Dobby said and disappeared with a loud crack, reappearing a second later holding a large, old-fashioned camera, much like the one Colin Creevey had at the start of his first year. Kieran and Scott both put their arms around her shoulders and they all smiled as Dobby snapped the picture.  
  


### * * * *

  
The rest of the first week passed as a blur. Everywhere she went and looked there was something new and exciting to discover. They explored much of the manor, finding some places even Scott didn’t know about, such as the wine cellar. However, Dobby caught them there and shooed them out.  
  
“This is not a suitable place for you young masters and miss!”  
  
The most fun was exploring the attic. There was just so much to discover. In her mind Harriet could never help but feel she was looking for clues. She wanted to suggest her Nancy Drew game to Kieran and Scott, but again the lingering words of Aunt Marge kept barging into her mind.  
  
 _Freak_!  
  
As both boys often had chores and housework to do, even Scott (Dobby having days off and not being able to do everything at once), Harriet often found herself hanging out with just Kieran or Scott individually. Each had their own passions and interests that she had never really known about at Hogwarts.  
  
Despite his usual bookish nature at school, Scott spent most of his time exploring the woods at Glen Raglan. Harriet had often wondered, since last spring, just how Scott had managed to follow the basilisk without being heard the night Riddle had sent the giant snake to kill him (another bit of information she had never told Scott). It did not take Harriet long to figure out why.  
  
After so many years growing up exploring the woods, Scott had become quite a master at stalking through them. He knew the right kind of shoes to wear, where best to set his feet, and how fast to move. It was impressive at first to watch, however it soon became obvious that Scott’s preferred target with Harriet around was not squirrels or the deer that lived in the woods.  
  
No. His new favourite target was Harriet. Time and again Harriet would be trying to sneak along after Scott when suddenly he would disappear and reappear behind her, grabbing her from behind and causing her to shriek. However, Scott would usually flee before Harriet’s wrath as she attempted to pummel his shoulder in retaliation. Harriet was surprised to find she was getting rather good at hitting people in the shoulder, not that she was sure that really counted as a talent.  
  
“So, why do you like being out in the woods so much at home, yet spend all your time studying at Hogwarts?” Harriet asked one sunny afternoon.  
  
Scott flushed a little and shrugged. “It’s what I’m supposed to do, I guess… Heh, maybe it’s just wood?” he said looking around at the trees. “I can’t go into the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, so I run into a forest of another kind?”  
  
Harriet thought it made sense, but she still felt like there was something Scott wasn’t telling her.  
  
Her time alone with Kieran was much more subdued, but Harriet didn’t mind. It was very peaceful, usually involving long walks down the paths of Glen Raglan or just sitting and talking in his room. She was learning more about his family than she had ever known before. His father was the son of a pair of star tennis players. Kieran’s mom had not grown up around tennis, but had picked it up shortly after meeting Kieran’s father. Harriet was even more surprised to find out both of Kieran’s parents had been Quidditch players as well.  
  
Surprisingly, Harriet found her time with Kieran slightly more awkward than with Scott. It wasn’t that she had more fun with Scott; it was more that she felt bad Kieran just couldn’t do all the things his friend liked to do. She felt Kieran deserved to be able to do anything he wanted, not have to settle on things because of his leg.  
  
For instance, Kieran did confide to her that he had always wanted to play tennis like his parents, but he just couldn’t move well enough on his leg. So instead he learned how to have fun other ways: reading, taking leisurely walks, and of course, fishing.  
  
“So… do you get… I don’t know… jealous, sometimes?” Harriet asked nervously the first afternoon of her second week.  
  
“About what?” Kieran asked. Harriet rolled her eyes in her mind. She knew Kieran was playing stupid again.  
  
“Well, I mean… like when I talk about Quidditch… or when your folks are playing tennis…” Harriet said carefully, “You always make jokes about your leg…”  
  
“It… it’s fine, Harriet. It’s sort of a reality I have to live with, you know? Yeah, sure I wish I could fly broomsticks or run or just… you know, walk?”  
  
Harriet flushed looking down at her hands in her lap. “Sorry…”  
  
“Harriet, I said it’s fine,” he said bumping her shoulder.  
  
“I know… I just… you’re my friend, but I feel like I know the least about you of everyone! I never know what’s okay to say or not okay to say, I never wanna offend you or make you feel like I’m being insensitive about your, yeah, and just—”  
  
Kieran simply sighed and put an arm around her shoulder. “Harriet, honest, you’re fine. You’re an awesome Quidditch player; I want you to be proud of it. I want my folks to be proud of themselves.”  
  
Harriet swallowed and sighed resting her head on Kieran’s shoulder. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know?”  
  
Kieran laughed.  
  
Somehow, despite the fanciness of the manor, and all the nice things the McIntyres had given her, Harriet found she was starting to prefer the O’Brien house to the McIntyres’. It was quieter, and cosier, and said “family” to her much more than McIntyre Manor did. The O’Briens themselves were also much quicker to laughter than the McIntyres, particularly Mrs O’Brien.  
  
What Harriet thought she liked the most about Mrs O’Brien was that Mrs O’Brien talked to Harriet like she was a grown up. They talked a lot about Quidditch and what life was like for her and Mr O’Brien growing up.  
  
“Aye, I was a beater, as was Kieran’s father,” Mrs O’Brien said. “He was the one who got me on tennis. His parents played it, and Sean picked it up from them. It’s really good for hand-eye coordination. We made a darn good team, we did.”  
  
Harriet smiled. “So, what made you want to play?” Harriet asked, interested.  
  
“Well…” Mrs O’Brien said and gave a little smile in Mr O’Brien’s direction, “Let’s just say I was a sucker for a pair of baby blues… If making them mine meant running about a court, working up a sweat and hitting something with a racket that was worth it in my book. Anyway, we graduated and got jobs and got married and time for Quidditch fell away, but there was always time for tennis.”  
  
Harriet giggled and nodded. “I like the sound of that… just… grow up, get married, get a job…”  
  
“Ooooo got yer eyes set on any boys yet?” Mrs O’Brien teased.  
  
Harriet rolled her eyes. “Kinda… but none of them really know I exist… well I mean, they know I exist… everyone knows I exist.”  
  
Mrs O’Brien’s eyes twinkled. “Oh I wouldn’t say that, love. I’m sure there’s a least one boy out there who thinks you’re the most wonderful thing to ever exist and it has nothing at all to do with a scar or You-Know-Who or fame.”  
  
“Really?” Harriet asked, unconvinced.  
  
“Really,” Mrs O’Brien said enigmatically.  
  
Harriet changed the subject. “So… Mr O’Brien said you went to school with my mum and dad, right?”  
  
Mrs O’Brien’s smile faltered briefly. “Aye, we did.”  
  
“What were they like?” Harriet asked.  
  
Mrs O’Brien continued to smile, but there was still something strained behind it.  
  
“They were wonderful people, honey—well…” she paused and the mischievousness returned to her smile. “Yer da was a bit of a dork… he was seeker too, you know?”  
  
“I do, how do you mean a dork?”  
  
“Ohhh you know, he just let it all go to his head a little bit. He’d ruffle his hair all the time to look like he’d just got done flying, he’d walk around letting go and catching snitches he swiped from Madame Hooch…”  
  
“Madame Hooch was around way back then?”  
  
“Oh, aye,” Mrs O’Brien replied.  
  
“Wow… heh… but you’re right… my dad was kind of a dork wasn’t he?”  
  
“Oh yes,” Mrs O’Brien laughed. “But he was a good dork, who loved you and your mother more than life itself.”  
  
“So what was my mum like?”  
  
Mrs O’Brien smiled brighter. “Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I think you pretty much just have to look in a mirror to know what she was like.”  
  
“Really?” Harriet asked, surprised.  
  
“Really. It’s almost uncanny in fact, well you got the glasses and the black hair, but it’s in your personality. You take a bit more physically from your da I think, but you definitely get one hundred percent of your personality from yer mum.”  
  
Harriet beamed.  
  


### * * * *

  
As the second week drew to a close, Harriet was starting to get mixed feelings. They had yet again planned going to Diagon Alley together with all of their friends. However, as with the Burrow, Harriet wasn’t all that sure she was ready for the summer to come to an end. She wanted to go back and see all her friends and play Quidditch, but she also was having too much fun.  
  
However, something interesting happened halfway through the second week at the manor. Harriet got to meet Jess McIntyre again. Not only that, she got to meet the newest student at Hogwarts.  
  
Harriet and the McIntyres were having tea while they waited on the patio the afternoon that Jess was supposed to arrive. Harriet was doubly excited. She had only met Jess once before, when she had brought Ronnie her new wand last year. Ronnie had needed a new wand after her old wand had been snapped when her father inadvertently parked his car next to the Womping Willow, a vicious tree on the Hogwarts grounds that smashed anything and anyone who got near it.  
  
Harriet supposed part of the reason she wanted to meet Jess so badly was she she’d spent two weeks literally walking in her shoes. At the moment Harriet was wearing one of Jess’ old white floral sundresses and some sandals. She knew Jess had said Harriet could have any of her old clothes she wanted, but Harriet still felt awkward about it.  
  
And yet, Harriet loved it. There were so many cute dresses and clothes she’d never had the chance to wear at the Dursleys. _The only nice thing I ever got from them was the dress I wore to meet the Masons_ , Harriet thought. _I’m so glad Mrs Weasley was able to get the pudding stains out_. She now kept the dress tucked away in her trunk for special occasions.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car and Harriet furrowed her brow in surprise. The last thing she had expected was Jess to arrive by car. But she was right, a few seconds later a shining car came driving down the lane and stopped in front of them. The door opened and Jess McIntyre stepped out.  
  
She was as tall as Mr McIntyre, but with a curtain of dark brown hair and blue eyes set in a round, smiling face. She hurried over to hug Mr and Mrs McIntyre and Scott before smiling down at Harriet and holding out a hand.  
  
“Dear God girl ya wear that dress a thousand and a half times better than I ever did,” she declared shaking Harriet’s hand with a very firm grip.  
  
“Th-thank you Miss,” Harriet said blushing.  
  
“Oh Jesus girl, call me Jess, ever’one does! So, the customer here yet?”  
  
“Nah, be a little while yet. Have a seat!” Mr McIntyre said.  
  
They retook their seats and Mr and Mrs McIntyre chatted away with Jess while Scott and Harriet sat quietly drinking their tea. Finally Jess turned back to Harriet.  
  
“So Miss Potter, how’s your friend Ronnie and her wand?”  
  
“Oh, great I think,” Harriet said caught off guard. “She loves it and it works really well for her. Only took her a couple days to forget about her old wand altogether I think.”  
  
Jess smiled and nodded. “The mark of a proper wand pairing. Her old Ollivander wand was a good one but it wasn’t truly _her_ wand. It had enough life left in it for me to glean a little of its old life. Poor dear could have been so much happier had she got her own wand from the start. Wands don’t turn over allegiances so readily.”  
  
“So, what got you into wand-making?” Harriet asked.  
  
Jess laughed. “It’s interesting.”  
  
Mr McIntyre snorted into his teacup. “Oh come on, Jess.”  
  
Jess rolled her eyes. “Oh alright, tis a bit more than that. Just a bit of a family tradition. It’s how we the McIntyres made our money after magic appeared in the family line.”  
  
“Well the whole royal gifts thing helped,” Mr McIntyre chuckled.  
  
“Okay, yeah it maybe gave some of the original investment money to start the business, yes,” Jess retorted.  
  
“So, is that why you make wands for free?” Harriet asked.  
  
Jess nodded. “Aye, just don’t need to take money for them anymore. The family fortune is prudently invested, just lets me do what I want, really. Travel about, find good wand trees and core materials, pretty good life really.”  
  
Harriet gave a laugh. “Must be nice.”  
  
Jess smiled and patted Harriet’s shoulder. “All lives are different, love. Just gotta make the best of what it gives ya. Sitting around being unhappy with yer lot usually just leaves you feeling more miserable, and makes it harder to get through each day. Hope, always have it. Misery breeds misery, no point fretting.”  
  
Harriet nodded, digesting that information. Just then there was the sound of feet on the gravel drive. Even stranger, Harriet was sure she could hear a horse. Everyone turned to look and as they did, Harriet could not help but notice Mr and Mrs McIntyres’ and Jess’ hands all go towards their pockets. They kept hearing the footsteps and the hoof-clops getting louder when finally:  
  
“Hello?” called a pleasant woman’s voice.  
  
“Over here, Miss Burbage,” Mr McIntyre called and rose to his feet.  
  
Around the corner came a middle-aged woman and a boy who looked to be around Harriet’s age. They were in fact accompanied by a chocolate brown horse with a black nose. The boy was fairly tall, about the same height as Kieran and Scott, but slighter in build. He had dirty-blonde hair and a very noticeable tan. He looked like he was squinting, but Harriet could just detect blue-green irises through the squint.  
  
Harriet got up with the rest of the family too. They walked over to greet the newcomers. The boy looked back at the horse and to Harriet’s surprise, it gently nudged his shoulder with its nose and the boy took a step or two forward.  
  
“Well, you must be Mister Lee,” Mr McIntyre said holding out a hand.  
  
The boy shook and then turned to shake with Mrs McIntyre, Jess, Scott and finally Harriet. As he looked at Harriet his eyes widened a little. Harriet flushed. His eyes had not gone up to her scar, which was covered by her hair anyway. They had gone down and up again, taking in the rest of her instead. However, after that he averted his eyes, just looking down at his feet.  
  
“Jackson, this is my wife, Paige; my cousin, Jess; our son, Scott; and his friend, Harriet Potter,” Mr McIntyre said introducing everyone.  
  
On hearing her name, Jackson looked back up at Harriet again, his eyes wide open now. However, it wasn’t this that caught Harriet’s attention. It was the way the horse had snorted and turned its own head to look at her, its own eyes going wide. Or at least she thought they did. It was difficult to tell, and that certainly wasn’t very horse-like behaviour, but no one else seemed to notice.  
  
Mr McIntyre didn’t seem to notice as he said, “Everyone, this is Jackson Lee, another refugee student from America.”  
  
“Hi,” he said. He still looked shy, and wasn’t really meeting anyone’s eyes, especially not Harriet’s.  
  
“And this is Miss Charity Burbage, former Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts—”  
  
“Oh come on, Dorian, like I really counted. I was only there for a year,” Miss Burbage said waving a dismissive hand.  
  
“And who is this gorgeous beauty?” Jess said as she took a step towards the horse.  
  
“E-Epeius,” Jackson managed to mumble.  
  
“Gorgeous… simply gorgeous…” Jess said rubbing her hand up and down the horse’s long snout. It gave a little snort and clopped a foot, its eyes closing in apparent appreciation of the petting.  
  
Mr McIntyre chuckled. “Well, let’s all have a seat, shall we?”  
  
They all sat back down and Harriet couldn’t help but notice that Jackson took the seat as far from her as possible. Scott seemed to be studying Jackson intently. Harriet wasn’t sure what the look on his face was. Was it uncertainty, or suspicion? Somehow, from deep inside her head, the word that came to the front of her mind when she looked at his face said: jealousy.  
  
“Well anyway, as I said, Miss Burbage used to be the Muggle Studies professor. Now she’s head of the new Department for Misplaced Youths, a new office created under Fudge’s orders just this summer.”  
  
“Just this year?” Scott asked. “So you’re not the people who brought the refugees over?”  
  
“No, dear,” Miss Burbage said. “Our role is the protection of the students who are already here. We no longer call them refugees,” Miss Burbage reminded Scott.  
  
“Right, sorry,” Scott said. “So… why did you leave for the new job?”  
  
“Well, the Minister himself asked me to step in. Many of the students have Muggle families and so I am able to liaise with them effectively. And don’t worry, dear, no apology necessary. The last year was a… well… fiasco. Anyway, there was an incident over this past summer that made keeping a closer watch on the children a necessity.”  
  
“Sirius Black you mean?” Harriet asked.  
  
“No dear, a much different matter,” Miss Burbage said gravely.  
  
“Well, enough of this dark stuff, eh?” Jess said boisterously and patted Jackson hard on the shoulder. “Let’s get this boyo measured up so I can get him just the right wand before classes start, yeah?”  
  
“Why don’t you and Harriet head down to the O’Brien’s?” Mrs McIntyre said. She sounded as though she was trying to be casual, though she seemed very serious.  
  
Scott nodded and got to his feet. Harriet rose too though she was hesitant. There was more going on here than they were telling her. She kept stealing glances back over her shoulder at the three adults sitting around the table while Jess led Jackson into McIntyre Manor. Finally after they got out of sight, Harriet stopped.  
  
“No, I’ve gotta know.”  
  
“Know what?” Scott asked.  
  
Harriet didn’t answer, she darted into the woods, slipping off her sandals and sneaking along as quietly as she could. She wasn’t as good as Scott yet, but she was lighter than him and walked even more lightly as she snuck through the woods, back towards the gazebo. Finally she heard voices.  
  
“So it’s true then? Separatist forces really are trying to get a hold of saved children?” she heard Mrs McIntyre ask worriedly.  
  
“Yes, the most persistent one is named Kinney. He first came pretending to be an envoy looking to reclaim children for their other family in the states. Fortunately, Professor Howe from Rathlin was on to him and warned the Minister of the plan. Fudge interceded and had Kinney sent off.”  
  
“Well that’s good,” Mr McIntyre said.  
  
“If only it had worked,” Miss Burbage said gravely. “He gave the Auror who was escorting him out of the country the slip. No one’s seen any sign of him since.”  
  
Harriet bit her lip. She looked and saw Scott crouching behind her. He glared at her; clearly not happy she was eavesdropping on his parents, but he didn’t do anything more, just listened in.  
  
“Really? Do you think he’s dangerous?” Mrs McIntyre asked. “If he presents a danger to the school, combined with Black on the loose?”  
  
“Unfortunately, he is. Kinney is not an envoy of any kind. He’s essentially a mercenary. He’s dangerous and ruthless,” Miss Burbage said. “He named Arnold Hoffman’s daughter and the Tyler sisters on his list of those he’s after. He’s after young Jackson Lee, too.”  
  
“Why him?” Mr McIntyre asked curiously. “The Tylers and Miss Hoffman I could see but I believe Jackson’s family are dead are they not?”  
  
“They are,” Miss Burbage said. “But Jackson was the only survivor of the attack on that town last June. He knows the real story of what happened. He doesn’t seem to remember the attack, at least not consciously, but he talks in his sleep. Miss Momori says it’s more than just repression.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean someone put a memory charm on him. Someone wanted to make him forget everything that he had seen that day.”  
  
“A Unionist soldier?” Mrs McIntyre asked. Her voice sounded muffled, and Harriet was sure she had her hands over her mouth.  
  
“Must have been. We’re not sure why, Dumbledore says it must have been done out of guilt. Anyway, Jackson’s probably in the most danger out of all of the children who’ve been relocated. Some Unionist leaders want him because if he can prove that the Secessionists were in the town against the will of the denizens it can fix the horrible damage to their international image. Other Unionist leaders want him because apparently he killed a Unionist officer who was leading the attack on his town.”  
  
“He killed—?” Mrs McIntyre started to ask but she paused when Miss Burbage cut her off.  
  
“We can’t know that for sure. The boy is suffering from severe emotional trauma coupled with a powerful memory charm. Miss Momori says we can’t start working on the memory charm until we deal with the emotional damage. Personally I argued against his even going to Hogwarts this year, for his own safety and others.”  
  
“So why do Secessionist forces want him then?” Mr McIntyre asked.  
  
“They want to silence him. He alone truly knows that the Secessionist forces in that town were themselves invaders. That is his story anyway. The Secessionists are exploiting every ounce of the last attack they can get, and if Jackson is able to bring it to light that they were not the true victims of the attack and that they were using the Muggle civilians in the town as human shields then it will ruin their whole case and cause even more negative public support for their side.”  
  
“I see…” Mr McIntyre said.  
  
“I just… I can’t see how a young boy could have killed someone… especially an army officer. How would he have even known how to perform the necessary curses?”  
  
Harriet heard Miss Burbage sigh. “He didn’t use a curse, Mrs McIntyre. The rumour is he used a gun.”  
  
“A gun…?” Mr McIntyre asked.  
  
“Yes, an old revolver. That was how the death was reported in Unionist Army reports, and it was corroborated by Canadian authorities who say the boy was found with a gun matching the description that had been fired several times.”  
  
“Oh… oh that poor boy… that poor, poor boy…” Mrs McIntyre said.  
  
“Yes… he was found with the horse in Canada, some three hundred miles away from where the attack took place. No one’s quite sure how he and the horse got that far that fast, the boy’s wand was broken and he’s much too young to have apparated. Anyway, he almost refuses to leave the horse’s side now. Dumbledore had to go all the way over to Canada himself to talk Jackson into coming, promising there would be space at the school for the horse and that he would be well cared for.”  
  
Harriet looked at Scott. His eyes were as wide as hers. This year was starting to look more and more daunting. Sirius Black was after her and some other unnamed former spy at Hogwarts. Some man named Kinney was going after some of her new American friends. And to top it off, another new student had turned up who had possibly killed someone.  
  
Harriet and Scott turned away and finally snuck back out of the woods towards the O’Brien house. However, as they got back out onto the lane Harriet paused again. The horse, Epeius, was standing there, looking at her. Its ears were laid back and its eyes narrowed. Was the horse looking at her as though it disapproved?  
  
Harriet shook her head. The horse continued to stare or glare or whatever it was doing as Harriet and Scott backed away. They turned, and headed towards the road. _Why can’t anything in my life ever be normal or simple for once_?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kieran O'Brien, Scott McIntyre, parents, Jess McIntyre, and Epeius property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	5. Walking with Unicorns

“Never pass on the chance to look at the world through a new set of eyes.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“So, do you think he really did kill someone?”  
  
Harriet and Scott were sitting in Kieran’s room telling him everything they had overheard.  
  
“I don’t know. I can’t see him actually being dangerous; I mean would Dumbledore actually let someone who was dangerous come to Hogwarts?” Kieran said, scratching his chin.  
  
“Well, he _did_ hire Snape,” Scott joked causing Kieran to double over with laughter.  
  
Harriet laughed as well, but not quite as hard as Kieran and Scott. She did not have the same feelings of animosity towards Professor Snape, the Hogwarts Potions Master, as other students. She wasn’t exactly cordial with Professor Snape. In fact most of the time in Potions class Professor Snape pretended that Harriet did not exist. However, Harriet would never forget how Professor Snape had gone with her to help save Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
“Well, I mean really, if you think about it, what if he—you know—he did do it? By the sound of it he was probably protecting himself. Maybe he didn’t mean to, or it was an accident? We really don’t know anything about him or what happened. I mean Miss Burbage didn’t even know,” Harriet said changing the subject back to Jackson.  
  
“That’s true…” Scott muttered.  
  
“Wonder what house he’ll be in,” Kieran said.  
  
“Gryffindor,” Scott replied without hesitation.  
  
“How do you know?” Harriet asked.  
  
Scott shrugged. “He just looked like a Gryffindor. He had that silly, ‘it’s just me against the world’ look to him.”  
  
“Oy!” Harriet and Kieran both protested. Kieran threw a pillow at Scott who deflected it with his hands.  
  
“Well if you ask me,” Harriet retorted, “he had that squinty-eyed ‘I read way too much’ Ravenclaw look to him.”  
  
Scott rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, but when he’s sorted into Gryffindor, don’t say I didn’t tell you so!”  
  
There was only a week and a half left of summer and Harriet vowed to spend it doing as many fun things as she could. She found it amusing that only two years ago she was sure there was nowhere in the world she would ever feel at home. Now between the Weasleys’, the McIntyres’, the O’Briens’, and Hogwarts, Harriet felt she had four homes. Four places filled with people who cared and would do anything for her.  
  
The remainder of her time at the McIntyres’ was made even more fun because Jess decided to stay. Harriet listened intently to all her stories growing up. Once more, Harriet saw the connections woven through her friendships: the death of family members at the hand of Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters.  
  
Jess revealed that she had lost her own parents at Lord Voldemort’s command when she was only eleven. Her father had been a professional wand-maker, and essentially Ollivander’s only competition in Great Britain. The Death Eaters had shown up at their house, demanding that her father work for them, supplying their army with wands. Jess’ father had refused, and they killed him and Jess’ mother because of it.  
  
Mr McIntyre’s father had been Jess’ godfather. After her parents’ deaths Jess had gone to live at McIntyre Manor where she became Mr McIntyre’s adopted older sister. They had sent her to Hogwarts and encouraged her to learn all she could about wand-lore to carry on her family’s legacy.  
  
“Wish I’d had a cool godfather to go live with like that,” Harriet had grumbled.  
  
Jess’ lips tightened and she put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “I know, love, you deserved so much better. And still do, but ask yerself, do yeh like who yeh are right now?”  
  
“Yeah,” Harriet said without thinking.  
  
“Well then, what’s the real fuss? Everything that has happened to you has made you who you are, for good or for ill, yeah? Sometimes those things aren’t so great, but they are all part of the equation of who you are,” Jess explained.  
  
Harriet blushed, but smiled. Jess had much the same nature as Mrs O’Brien, treating Harriet like an equal. Not that Mr or Mrs McIntyre ever spoke down to Harriet or made her feel stupid. They just seemed much more prim and proper and were constantly fussing and worried.  
  
The families had arranged to go to Diagon Alley for the students’ books and equipment on the 31st of August, the day before the train left for Hogwarts. The families had all booked rooms in the Leaky Cauldron, the little pub that hid Diagon Alley from the Muggle World. It was bewitched so that Muggles could not see it, but magical people could. Harriet remembered entering Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid on her eleventh birthday. It was the first time she had been aware of just how well known she was in the magical world.  
  
Harriet was even more excited because Jess had offered to drive Kieran, Scott, and Harriet to Diagon Alley herself the day before. She wanted to make it a fun day trip, and to show Harriet the McIntyre’s unicorn herd.  
  
The only time Harriet had ever seen a unicorn was during the detention she received after helping relocate Hagrid’s pet dragon, Norbert. She, Neville, and Draco Malfoy had been sent into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid and his boar-hound, Fang, searching for an injured unicorn. Harriet had found the unicorn, but it had already been killed by Professor Quirrell who was sharing a body with Lord Voldemort.  
  
Finally the night of the 29th arrived. Harriet and Scott packed and then ended up staying awake until midnight, talking about the trip the following day. Harriet was especially pleased when Mrs McIntyre magically expanded the inside of Harriet’s trunk for her. This meant not only could she fit all her new clothes in the trunk, but even her broomstick as well.  
  
Harriet barely slept by the time Jess shook her awake at five in the morning. She washed up trying to drive the grogginess out of her mind. Jess had said they would be walking for a while, so Harriet picked out a light-blue button-up shirt, a pair of khaki walking shorts, white knee socks and a pair of brown walking shoes.  
  
“Ooo that’s a right smart look,” Jess said as Harriet stepped out of her room. “Got someone you wanna impress?”  
  
“N-no…?” Harriet stammered, caught off guard by the question.  
  
Jess laughed and waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, just givin’ ya a hard time.”  
  
Scott came out of his room. He blinked at the sight of Harriet. “Going on safari?” He teased.  
  
Harriet blushed but Jess put her hands on her hips. “Hey now, that was right high-fashion when I was ‘er age,” she said coming to Harriet’s defence.  
  
Harriet grinned and Scott rolled his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, just teasing,” he said.  
  
Jess levitated their trunks so they followed along behind the group as they headed out for the car. Harriet carried Hedwig’s new cage that Scott had assembled for her, and Scott carried two cages with his owl, Adal and his kestrel, Ayr. Jess carried extra pillows for Harriet and Scott to get some more sleep along the way, as it would be at least a three hour trip before they reached the unicorn ranch.  
  
Harriet felt bad that she had not sent for Hedwig. Unfortunately Mr and Mrs McIntyre had decided that it would be too risky sending letters that might give away Harriet’s whereabouts. The chance to get Hedwig back was another point that had Harriet finally getting excited to leave Glen Raglan for her friends and Hogwarts.  
  
Even if Jess’ car couldn’t fly, it seemed she had not been above giving it a few enhancements of her own. As with Mr Weasley’s car, the inside had been expanded magically. The boot fit both Harriet and Scott’s trunks with ample room to spare. They set the three bird cages easily on the front seat while the back seat was wide enough to fit at least five people.  
  
They all climbed in and were off to Kieran’s. Kieran was already up and waiting for them on his front step with his trunk beside him. Harriet and Scott got out help him.  
  
“Hey you lot,” Kieran said waving. He smiled taking in Harriet’s outfit. “You look smart!”  
  
“Thank you, Kieran,” Harriet replied. She felt her cheeks get very warm but she still turned and stuck her tongue out at Scott who rolled his eyes again.  
  
Scott helped Kieran load his trunk into the boot. They climbed back inside the car, Harriet moving into the middle, and were once again heading down the road. They did manage to talk for about a half hour as Jess drove on, but soon Harriet started feeling her eye-lids getting heavy. Scott stopped talking five minutes later and Harriet saw that his head had dropped onto his pillow which was propped up against a window.  
  
Harriet kicked off her shoes and twisted in her seat a little, turning in Kieran’s direction. She curled her legs up under her and cuddled her pillow, resting her head on it. Kieran stretched and yawned and lay against his own pillow. Harriet smiled softly, took off her glasses, and closed her eyes.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet’s head slid and she jerked awake. She looked around but the whole world was fuzzy. She was sitting upright, lying against something lumpy and oddly shaped. She fumbled around and found her glasses. She put them on and blushed. She remembered where she was now. She was in the back seat of Jess McIntyre’s car, and she had fallen asleep against Kieran.  
  
Fortunately, Kieran looked to be fast asleep. Harriet sat up rapidly and felt her cheeks get hot once more. She looked up in the front and saw Jess looking back at her in the rear-view mirror. Jess’ eyebrow was raised and Harriet could see the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile.  
  
“Oh shut up,” Harriet mouthed back and Jess laughed. The sound of it woke Kieran and Scott who both grunted looking around as they stretched in unison.  
  
“We almost there?” Scott asked.  
  
“We are there,” Jess said smiling. “Just parked.”  
  
“Fantastic,” Kieran said and took down his pillow and opened the door.  
  
Harriet put her shoes back on and climbed out after him, groaning and stretching as she stood up. She looked around and gasped. They were at the edge of a wide open plain surrounded by forest. In the middle was a white, silver, and gold mass. It was moving around and Harriet realized it must be the herd of unicorns.  
  
Jess put two fingers in her mouth and whistled as loud as she could. The herd began moving as one towards them. The ground began to tremble beneath their feet and the herd got close enough Harriet could finally make out individual animals.  
  
The herd came to a stop about ten yards away. Harriet’s mouth was hanging open. The largest animals were pure white with two foot long horns protruding from their foreheads. There were smaller, younger looking members of the herd who were silver. Finally there were the foals which were a shimmering pure-gold. Harriet noted that even the older unicorns seemed to retain their golden hooves.  
  
If a dead unicorn had been the saddest thing Harriet had ever seen, then living unicorns were certainly among the happiest. Harriet didn’t know why, but they somehow filled her with joy as they pranced about looking at her giving playful snorts and whinnies.  
  
“There you are my beauties… oh you gorgeous, _gorgeous beauties_ ,” Jess said and slowly strode forward.  
  
At first, Harriet thought she was being cautious but as she took in the sight of Jess’ face, Harriet realized it was reverence.  The tallest of the unicorns, a brilliantly white stallion, strutted towards Jess, his head held high. At first Harriet thought he looked rather haughty, and then she reminded herself that the two foot spike on top of his head would probably be dangerous if he approached Jess with his head lowered.  
  
One of the golden fouls cantered up excitedly beside the stallion. Jess beamed over her shoulder at the three. She gestured to Harriet.  
  
“Come on, Harriet, don’t be shy. Adult unicorns favour lassies,” she said.  
  
Harriet nodded and stepped forward. The unicorn slowly turned its long face towards her. Harriet stopped beside Jess and Jess took a step back. Harriet looked up into the shiny, black eyes and reached up, gently rubbing her hand up the horse’s muzzle, going with the grain of its fur. Just like Epeius the other day, the unicorn closed its eyes and gave a soft snort of appreciation.  
  
Harriet giggled. She got a similar sensation stroking the beautiful horse’s fur as she had when she swallowed a tear from Fawkes the previous spring. It was not nearly as strong, but she did feel a sense of inner-peace and calm. And yet she felt empowered at the same time.  
  
The foal nudged Harriet’s other hand and she giggled, scratching it behind the ears. There was movement on either side of her and Harriet saw Kieran and Scott step up as well, petting the unicorn’s neck.  
  
“Hey Sampson,” Scott said smiling warmly.  
  
“Miss us?” Kieran asked.  
  
The unicorn snorted again and stomped a foot in response.  
  
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Kieran said. “Wasn’t on purpose.”  
  
“I thought you said unicorns prefer girls?” Harriet asked Jess.  
  
Jess laughed. “Well, Kieran and Scott are a bit special. See Sampson here gave the tail hairs that I used in their wands.”  
  
“So your wands share a core?” Harriet asked. The only other case of shared cores she had heard was with her own wand and Lord Voldemort’s.  
  
“Yeah,” Scott said patting Sampson’s neck. “Though, I don’t know if it’s just that. I mean, I guess they’re my family’s herd, so, I think they sort of tolerate me a bit better for that. And they’ve _always_ seemed to take a shine to Kieran.”  
  
There was no denying that. At that moment a couple of mares walked up and began nuzzling Kieran who laughed and stroked their muzzles too. Harriet beamed watching as the rest of the herd began moving forward. The foals in particular were very friendly and their whinnies almost sounded like laughter as they pranced and cantered about.  
  
It was one of those wonderful moments where Harriet truly appreciated how different and wonderful the magical world in which she lived really was. It was like a fairy-tale come true as Kieran and Scott introduced her to their favourite members of the herd. It was as if every childhood fantasy of hers had come true. She was surrounded by a sea of beautiful, gentle, magical creatures with two of her best friends.  
  
Though the adults were beautiful, the foals were the most fun. Harriet ended up in a sort of game of tag with some of them. The foals would dart past her, trying to see how close and fast they could go by without Harriet touching them. Harriet laughed and smiled back at Kieran and Scott who were both just standing back and watching her. She felt warmth and happiness bubbling through her as she brushed her fringe out of her eyes. She never remembered being so happy in her life.  
  
They spent another couple of hours with the unicorns when finally it was time to get back on the road. Jess filled Harriet in on the magical properties of unicorns. Apart from being used in wand cores, their tail hairs were also useful as bindings on injuries, strong but flexible. However, this discussion put a worrisome thought in Harriet’s mind.  
  
“S-so… we’ve used powdered unicorn horn in Potions before,” she said awkwardly.  
  
Jess gave a sad, understanding smile. “Well, don’t worry dear, they do not get it from live unicorns.”  
  
“Then—”  
  
“Nor do they kill unicorns to get them. That’s why it’s so expensive an ingredient. They have to wait until the unicorn dies on its own to get the horn,” Jess explained, giving Harriet a comforting smile in the rear-view mirror.  
  
“Oh…” Harriet said in a soft voice. Even thinking about a unicorn dying on its own seemed to fill her with sadness.  
  
“Don’t fret, love. It’s the way of life. Everyone dies eventually, even creatures as wonderful as unicorns. But even in their passing they give us their horns that are used in medicines and curing diseases. So even in death, they are beautiful creatures who do great good,” Jess said.  
  
Harriet smiled and nodded, finally reassured.  
  
From unicorns, the conversation drifted to wand-lore and wand-making. In particular, Harriet was curious about the wand Jess had made for Jackson. Harriet found it interesting that Jackson’s previous wand-core had also been unicorn tail hair like Kieran and Scott’s.  
  
“Red oak was his first wand. Gorgeous it was. Red oak has always made some of the most beautiful o’ wands. They tend to favour duellists, those with quick reflexes, and wit.”  
  
“I see…” Scott muttered thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Did he get Red oak again?”  
  
“No, pine this time,” Jess replied. “Think the attack changed him a bit. Good sign for him.”  
  
“Why’s that?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Well, legend has it pine-wands are destined for owners with long lives ahead of them. Also means he’s adaptable. So even if he seemed a bit, off, when he first arrived, I’m sure by the time classes start he’ll be adjusted well and fit in with everyone else.”  
  
“Think he’d be a Gryffindor?” Harriet asked.  
  
Scott shot her a look but Jess laughed. “If that boy’s not a Gryffindor I’ll eat Sampson,” she said.  
  
Now Scott stuck his tongue out at Harriet. He yelped as Harriet punched his shoulder.  
  


### * * * *

  
Five hours later, they arrived in London. The three in the back had fallen asleep once more. This time Harriet had been careful to position herself so as not to fall asleep on either Kieran or Scott. It only took them another fifteen minutes to reach the Leaky Cauldron itself. Apparently an increased interior was not the only magical modification that Jess had given her car. It also seemed to be able to fit through gaps that Uncle Vernon’s fancy company car certainly couldn’t have, and had the ability to jump to the front of non-moving queues.  
  
Now that she was finally here, Harriet was beside herself with excitement. She couldn’t wait to see Ronnie, Hermione, Marcus and Dora once more. Jess parked the car in front of the Leaky Cauldron and they all got out and removed their trunks from the boot and their owls and kestral from the front seat and stepped inside.  
  
Tom, the landlord, came over to them, smiling toothlessly.  
  
“’Ello ‘ello again, Miss Jess! Lovely to see you again! And Miss Potter! Blimey it seems like just yesterday yeh were in here on yer very first trip to Diagon Alley!”  
  
“Nice to see you again, sir,” Harriet replied smiling up at him.  
  
Tom beamed and stepped aside, gesturing towards some stairs. “I can show yeh all to yer rooms now, get your trunks put away and get settled in.”  
  
“That would be lovely, Tom, thank you,” Jess replied and Tom led the four up the stairs.  
  
He stopped in front of one door. “You two lads will be in this room ‘ere,” Tom said, opening the door for Kieran and Scott.  
  
The two boys entered and then Tom stopped at the next door and opened it too. “You in here Miss Potter, you’ll be with Miss Ronnie Weasley when she arrives tomorrow.”  
  
Harriet smiled and stepped into the room. It was a very comfortable looking room. The bed was nearly as large as the bed she had slept in at McIntyre Manor, though the furniture here was oak, not cherry. The biggest surprise was what was waiting for her on top of the large wardrobe.  
  
“Hedwig!” Harriet exclaimed as the snowy owl flew down onto Harriet’s arm and immediately began preening her hair and nibbling her ear. “Oh I missed you so much too,” Harriet said gigging as Hedwig’s soft nibbles tickled her ear. She stroked Hedwig’s wings and sat down on the bed looking around. She could hear the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley through her window.  
  
She crossed the room to the window and looked down into the street. Tomorrow she would meet the rest of her best friends down there. And yet, in spite of how happy she felt, there was still the nagging doubt. What if Black did turn up in Diagon Alley? He had killed thirteen people with a single curse in the middle of a crowded street. Would he really care that Harriet was surrounded by other witches and wizards in Diagon Alley?  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
“Come in,” Harriet said.  
  
The door opened and Kieran poked his head into the room. “Hey, we’re going down for dinner now, come on!” he said excitedly.  
  
Harriet smiled, let Hedwig flutter up onto the wardrobe once more, and followed him out the door and back down the stairs to the dining room. No, there was no way Black would know she was there in Diagon Alley. She would be surrounded by witches and wizards who could all perform magic, and was seeing her best friends. She was not going to let her fear ruin her good times. She thought of her parents, and Jess’ parents. No, life was much too short to spend worrying about that.


	6. Biting Books and Broomsticks

“It is important to remember when someone says “expect the unexpected,” they do not mean prepare for all contingencies. They simply mean do not be surprised when things do not go as planned.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“HARRIET!”  
  
Ronnie Weasley’s shriek of delight cut the quiet morning air inside the Leaky Cauldron’s dining room. Harriet paused as she came down the stairs and a streak of red hair shot towards her.  
  
“Ronnie!” Harriet laughed as Ronnie hugged her tight, actually lifting her off her feet.  
  
Ronnie set Harriet back down and Harriet smiled turning to hug Ginny who had followed in Ronnie’s wake. “Hey Harriet,” Ginny said, beaming. “Still doing magic outside school, huh?”  
  
Harriet twisted her mouth in irritation. Ginny was referencing the time last year when Dobby had levitated the pudding Aunt Petunia had made for a dinner party. As a result, Harriet received an official warning from the Ministry about using magic outside of school. She was also locked in her room by Uncle Vernon for almost a week before Ronnie, Fred, George and Ginny had shown up in Mr Weasley’s flying car to rescue her.  
  
“I… well… okay it actually _was_ me who did the magic this time but I didn’t mean to do it,” Harriet said defensively.  
  
“Yeah, we know,” Fred said patting her hard on the shoulder.  
  
“Still, gotta give you points for style, blowing her up!” George added, grinning.  
  
“Bet that made a mess,” Fred said, smirking.  
  
“I _inflated_ her, not _exploded_ her, and she was attacking me,” Harriet muttered. She still wasn’t ready to tell anyone why Aunt Marge had been attacking her.  
  
“Just as good,” George shrugged.  
  
“Hello Harriet, dear,” Mrs Weasley said as she walked up to Harriet as well. Before Harriet could reply, Mrs Weasley pulled her into a rib-cracking hug. “So sorry we weren’t here to look after you after that awful woman was so horrible to you!”  
  
“It-it’s okay, Mrs Weasley,” Harriet muttered. “I really had a great time with Scott and Kieran.”  
  
“Harriet was a model guest,” Harriet heard Mrs McIntyre say from nearby.  
  
Harriet saw both Mr and Mrs McIntyre sitting with Jess and the O’Briens at a nearby table drinking coffee.  
  
“Where are Kieran and Scott?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Probably still sleeping,” Harriet replied.  
  
“Still?!”  
  
“Yeah, they do that,” Harriet said, “a lot.”  
  
Ronnie laughed and Fred and George grumbled. “Oh sure, they got to sleep in. We had to get up at the crack of dawn to be here because _Ronnie_ just couldn’t wait,” Fred groaned.  
  
“Waking up a little early won’t hurt you, Fred,” said Percy who had just walked up to greet Harriet as well. “ _The Early Seeker catches the Snitch_ , and all that.”  
  
“Perce… do… do you even know what that means?” George grumbled.  
  
“And says you,” Fred retorted. “Weren’t you the one staying up all night and sleeping all day writing secret letters to your _girlfriend_ last summer?”  
  
Harriet, Ronnie and Ginny laughed. Percy tilted his head back in a dignified way before he turned to Harriet. “It is nice to see you again, Harriet. I trust you had a good summer?”  
  
“Uhh… yeah I guess, thanks Percy,” Harriet replied. She hadn’t thought it was possible for Percy to get more pompous.  
  
Mrs Weasley smiled up at him affectionately. “So, did you hear our good news, Harriet?” Mrs Weasley asked. “Second Head Boy in the family!”  
  
“Yeah, Ronnie told me! Congratulations Percy!” Harriet said smiling.  
  
Percy’s chest swelled even more, his Head Boy badge glinting as he did. Fred and George mimed retching while Ronnie pretended to strangle herself and Ginny tried her best not to laugh.  
  
“Well anyway, how was life at Scott’s? _Love_ your outfit by the way, so retro,” Ginny said taking in Harriet’s attire. Today she had picked out a white turtle-neck with a navy, pleated pinafore dress, white knee socks with black argyle pattern and black penny loafers.  
  
“Oh, thanks Ginny, I got it from Scott’s cousin, Jess.”  
  
“Another outfit of mine she wears a million times better than I ever did,” Jess said, walking over and holding out a hand to Ronnie. “And how are yeh, Miss Ronnie? How’s the wand?”  
  
The Weasleys, McIntyres, and Harriet all sat down together. They ordered breakfast and filled each other in on their summers. Ronnie told Harriet all about Egypt.  
  
“Well the tours and tombs and stuff were cool, but what I liked best was coming across a Muggle football camp there too,” Ronnie said. “Learned some pretty good tricks to practice, which is good, because that was the excuse we gave my summer league coach: I was going abroad to a special football camp for the summer.”  
  
“Yeah, I bet he wasn’t happy to hear you’d be gone.”  
  
“No, he really wasn’t… but that story satisfied him I think.”  
  
Harriet was excited to tell Ronnie and Ginny all about her summer at McIntyre Manor.  
  
“Fishing? That—that sounds like the most _boring_ thing ever. All you do is just sit there and wait for a fish to bite? Seriously?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Ohhhhh, I wish I could have seen the unicorns,” Ginny moaned.  
  
Harriet smiled. It was something like winning the House Cup to see how well Ginny had returned to her normal self after everything that had happened the previous year. She supposed some time with her family and having fun again in Egypt had helped Ginny get over much of the damage.  
  
It was Hermione who turned up next. She was pleased to see Harriet, but unlike Ronnie and Ginny, she didn’t have quite the same outlook on Harriet’s unintentional magic. “You’re just lucky you weren’t expelled,” Hermione scolded.  
  
“I told you, Hermione, I lost control! She was attacking me, what was I supposed to do?”  
  
“Well, okay you’re right but—”  
  
“Oh leave her alone, Hermione,” Ronnie said, rolling her eyes. “She’s fine isn’t she?”  
  
“So tell me about your time in France,” Harriet said, changing the subject.  
  
They listened to Hermione’s story of her vacation. Harriet was more interested in Hermione’s tale than Ronnie and Ginny were, as most of the sites Hermione had seen were Muggle in nature. Her cousin, Camille, who was also a Muggle-born, had shown Hermione around several magical locations.  
  
It was then that Harriet started to notice there was something a little different about Hermione. She was wearing a simple blue t-shirt, grey shorts and flats, but Harriet noticed a distinct change. While Hermione had been average sized, she now seemed slimmer than she had before the summer, and her arms and legs seemed to be much more toned and muscly compared to last year.  
  
Harriet was about to ask about it when finally Kieran and Scott came down the stairs. They greeted the other girls enthusiastically despite still looking half-asleep. Mrs O’Brien and McIntyre both fussed over the boys, producing combs from nowhere and attempting to tame their wild bed hair.  
  
Next to arrive was Marcus and his father. Mr Weasley greeted Mr Van De Lakk with his usual excitement whenever he met Muggles while Marcus was grinning ear to ear and looking unusually proud. The reason for that was evident when he produced a copy of that morning’s _Daily Prophet_.  
  
  


  
_**Lockhart Locked-Up!** _

**_Gilderoy Lockhart given eighteen month sentence in Azkaban_ **  


**  
**  
“Should have been more,” Marcus grumbled. “Too many of his fans pleaded for a light sentence… but still, got what he deserved anyway!”  
  
Harriet had to agree. Despite having told them the whole story in his letters, Marcus couldn’t help but give them all the play-by-play of his time in the trial against Lockhart and his trip to Canada with Professor Dumbledore.  
  
“So, what did you think of Jackson?” Harriet asked.  
  
Marcus shrugged. “He seemed an okay bloke. Didn’t talk much, didn’t seem to want to trust anyone or anything but the horse. I kinda hope he’ll be in Gryffindor actually, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Bet he’ll be a real laugh when he loosens up a bit.”  
  
“Yeah, that was what I thought too,” Scott said.  
  
“You met him then?” Marcus asked.  
  
“Harriet and I did,” Scott said. “He came to the house so Jess could make him a new wand.”  
  
Harriet shot a side-ways glance at Scott. Again she noted how unwilling he was to talk about his family’s wealth, calling his home a ‘house’ instead of a ‘manor’. She still wasn’t sure why. She supposed he simply did not like to brag, as his family’s status and money was not exactly a secret.  
  
“Was he any more talkative with you lot?” Marcus asked. “Didn’t talk much with me. Mostly just listened, then wanted to make absolutely sure his horse really could come to Hogwarts too.”  
  
“Interesting… well the horse definitely could. They showed up with the horse when he came to get his measurements for Jess to make his wand. He wasn’t real talkative then either, especially after he saw Harriet,” Scott added.  
  
Kieran choked on his pumpkin juice and Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Really?” Marcus asked, grinning.  
  
“Oh shut up,” Harriet muttered. “He wasn’t that bad.”  
  
“No, but he was obvious,” Scott muttered.  
  
“Since when are you so protective?” Hermione asked, coolly.  
  
Scott flushed. “I’m not! Well, I am, I was just surprised is all.”  
  
“Suuuuure,” Ronnie teased, making Scott go even redder.  
  
“Oy! You lot!” called another familiar voice from the doorway. Dora had finally arrived. She was beaming as she came in to the pub, an arm around her younger sister, Emma. Again Harriet found it amusing that despite being two years younger than Dora, Emma looked to have a full five-inch height advantage on her older sister.  
  
Dora beamed hugging Emma tighter as she marched her up to the table. “Guess who’s all ready to do her very first bit of Hogwarts shopping?”  
  
“Hey way to go, Emma,” Marcus said cheerfully.  
  
Emma’s eyes went wide at being talked to directly and her face turned very pale. Harriet smiled warmly at her reassuringly.  
  
“You’re going to have a great time today! Diagon Alley’s one of the coolest places ever, and you’ll get your wand!”  
  
Emma blinked a few times and slowly nodded, without smiling.  
  
“What house do you think you’re going to get?” Ginny asked.  
  
“Dunno,” was all Emma managed to say.  
  
Ronnie shot Harriet an awkward look. “Well let’s say we all go out shopping? We can get a lot of it done before the big crowds arrive!”  
  
“Good thought,” Marcus agreed and they all got to their feet.  
  
“Where to first?” Scott asked.  
  
“Quality Quidditch Supplies,” Dora said, grinning ear to ear and giving Harriet a knowing look.  
  
“Oh alright,” Hermione groaned.  
  
“Awwww still not a Quidditch fan, Hermione?” Scott teased. “I’m shocked.”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. Harriet smiled. It was good to see Scott coming a bit more out of his shell and joking more openly. She wondered if her spending the summer there had helped.  
  
“Well, I know we have to stop by the pet shop at some point,” Ronnie said and she pulled Scabbers out of her hoodie. “Poor Scabbers hasn’t looked right since we got back from Egypt.”  
  
There was no arguing with that. Scabbers was usually a bit woebegone, even by rat standards, but at the moment he looked completely miserable. His ears and whiskers were drooping and he was missing hair in a couple places.  
  
Emma remained behind to do her shopping with Mr and Mrs Flamel. Mrs Weasley made them all promise to meet up at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour at noon. They agreed and began making their way as quickly as they could towards Quality Quidditch Supplies. It was only ten o’clock, and Harriet was surprised at the size of the crowd that was already gathered.  
  
“Wonder what the occasion is?” Kieran asked.  
  
Harriet and her friends managed to squeeze through the thick crowd to the front window of the shop. Once there, Harriet’s jaw fell open. On a podium in the shop’s front window was the most beautiful broom Harriet had ever seen. Its handle was so smooth and polished it looked to be made of wood coloured glass.  
  
“Knew you’d want to see this,” Dora said in Harriet’s ear. “ _The Firebolt_. Greatest racing broom ever made.”  
  
Harriet found it hard to argue with Dora’s assessment. From just seeing the broom once, Harriet knew there was nothing in the world she wanted more.  
  
Scot whistled looking at a placard. Harriet leaned forward and read too.  
  
  


_THE FIREBOLT_

  
_This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch-twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of nought to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Braking Charm. Price on request._  
  
  
Harriet groaned reading the final sentence. _Price on Request_. She didn’t even want to think about how much the _Firebolt_ must cost. Her parents had left her quite a pile of gold, but it wasn’t infinite in size, and Harriet had five more years at Hogwarts including this one to make it all last.  
  
There was also the fact that even if her _Nimbus Two-Thousand_ could not fly quite as fast as the _Firebolt_ , it was still one of the best brooms in her school. She could compete with the Slytherin teams’ newer _Nimbus Two-Thousand Ones_ , and she was sure that as wealthy as his family was, Draco Malfoy’s father was unlikely to spend quite that much on a _Firebolt_ for him.  
  
After ogling the _Firebolt_ a little longer, they moved on to the Apothecary where they refilled all their Potions ingredients. From there it was Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. They had all grown so much every one of them needed new robes, though none more so than Scott, who had easily grown the most, now rivalling Ronnie for height.  
  
“What say we get our books now?” Kieran suggested.  
  
“Well, we still have a lot of shopping to do, do we really want to be lugging around books that whole time?” Dora asked.  
  
“Well we could always take the books back to the Leaky Cauldron then go back to more fun shopping?” Hermione suggested.  
  
“Yeah, that’s a good thought,” Ronnie said and held out her arm as if brandishing a sword. “Okay, to Flourish and Blotts!”  
  
“Now with less Lockhart than ever before!” Marcus said striking a similar pose.  
  
Everyone laughed and they made their way through the swarms of people to the book shop. Half an hour later, they left with all their books in tow.  
  
“I’ve… I’ve never seen a grown man cry like that before,” Dora muttered.  
  
“Me neither,” Harriet agreed.  
  
Upon reaching the shop, Harriet had immediately solved another of the mysteries she had been pondering that summer. It turned out that the snarling, snapping, biting book that Hagrid had sent her, telling her only that it would “come in useful” was the set book for Care of Magical Creatures, which Harriet and all her friends would be starting this year.  
  
Apparently the shopkeepers couldn’t control the books either. As the group walked up to the cage full of fighting books, the assistant who was standing beside them took one look at the size of the group and burst into tears. His reward was being bitten eight times while trying to fetch six copies of the book. As they paid, every one of them told the assistant to keep the change for his troubles.  
  
“Blimey, Hermione,” Marcus grunted as they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. “Just how many classes are you taking again?”  
  
Hermione had bought so many books that the three boys all pitched in to help her carry them.  
  
“Oh, a lot,” Hermione said vaguely.  
  
“Noooooo you think?” Ronnie muttered in Harriet’s ear. Harriet giggled.  
  
They deposited their shopping in their rooms and made their way to the Magical Menagerie. Hermione was also eyeing Eeylops Owl Emporium as they passed.  
  
“You know, I really would like an owl of my own, finally,” she said rubbing her chin in thought. “Mum and Dad gave me some early birthday money in case I wanted to get one…”  
  
“Well they sell them in the Menagerie too,” Ronnie said. “Come on.”  
  
The Menagerie was one of the more crowded shops Harriet had ever been in. Not from people, but from the animals. It was almost deafeningly loud from all the squawking and screeching, and they found it nearly impossible to navigate the awkwardly stacked cages and tanks full of some of the most fanciful animals Harriet had ever seen. There were normal animals like owls and cats and toads and rats, but also more fantastic creatures such as a rabbit that could turn itself into a top-hat, and a tortoise with actual jewels in its shell. Even the otherwise normal animals seemed to be special. There was a cage of rats on the counter that looked like ordinary garden rats, except for the fact they were using each other’s tails as jump-ropes.  
  
Harriet and the others looked around the shop while Ronnie stood in line, waiting for the witch working the counter to finish giving instructions to a customer on the care of double-ended newts. Harriet, Scott and Marcus picked out some owl treats for their owls while Hermione perused the shop’s selection of owls. Despite her earlier interest in an owl, none seemed to strike her fancy as she went back and forth, studying them all.  
  
Finally, Ronnie made it to the counter. Harriet, Scott and Marcus got in line behind her.  
  
“How may I help you?” the witch asked as Ronnie stepped up.  
  
“It’s my rat, Scabbers, I think he’s really ill,” Ronnie replied, pulling Scabbers from her pocket and setting him on the counter. Scabbers flopped down pathetically. The rats who had been playing jump-rope stopped and scampered over to the side of the cage, looking at Scabbers with interest.  
  
“Dear dear… he is a bit the worse for wear, isn’t he?” the witch asked, picking up Scabbers delicately, studying his hairless patches, his ragged left ear and front right paw, which had a missing toe.  
  
“H-he… I know he’s old… but he always seemed so healthy all these years, but we just got back from Egypt and…”  
  
Ronnie trailed off as emotion and concern washed over her. The witch grimaced looking from Ronnie to Scabbers. “Well, how old is the poor dear?” the witch asked.  
  
“I-I dunno…” Ronnie said. “He first belonged to my brother, so at least twelve I think…”  
  
The witch’s eyes went wide at this news. “And-er-what powers does he have?” she asked awkwardly.  
  
“Uhhh…” Ronnie trailed off. Harriet knew what Ronnie was thinking: Scabbers had never shown a trace of being magical.  
  
The witch sighed sympathetically. “Well… this… is hard to say dear but, a common rat such as Scabbers here usually only lives three years or so… and the fact he’s managed to live to be this old is incredible, but… I’m not sure what can really be done…”  
  
The witch paused taking in Ronnie’s stricken face. “Well, I do have a rat tonic that might be useful, dear.”  
  
The witch knelt behind the counter and rose with a small red bottle. Ronnie looked relieved at the prospect of the tonic. “Oh thanks,” Ronnie said smiling again. “How much will it be-AHH!”  
  
At that moment, a large streak of orange fur leapt down onto the counter top from the tallest stack of cages. It hissed and spat and swiped at Scabbers.  
  
“NO CROOKSHANKS! BAD CAT! BAD!” the witch cried and attempted to pull Scabbers out of harm’s way.  
  
Scabbers however seemed to rouse himself from his near-death behaviour and sprang to life. He shot out of the witch’s hand and off the counter, too fast for either the witch, Ronnie, or the massive cat that had attacked him. He hit the floor and shot from the door too fast to be seen.  
  
“SCABBERS!” Ronnie cried and tore out of the shop after him. Marcus and Harriet dropped their owl treats and tore out of the shop after her.  
  
Even with three people searching it took almost fifteen minutes to find Scabbers. He was hiding under a waste-bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. By that point they were in danger of running late for their rendezvous at Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.  
  
“What on _earth_ was that?” Ronnie asked, glaring back at the pet shop.  
  
“I dunno,” Harriet said. “But it meant business.”  
  
“Well let’s go get the rat tonic,” Ronnie grumbled. “See if I ever shop at that—”  
  
Ronnie was cut off by the sight of Hermione, Scott, Kieran and Dora walking towards them. Hermione was beaming, but she was not holding an owl. Instead, she was carrying the enormous ginger cat. Dora was cooing over it while Kieran was looking incredulous and Scott was looking at the cat sceptically.  
  
“You bought that thing?!” Ronnie asked, gaping.  
  
“Isn’t he _gorgeous_?” Hermione asked, looking down at the cat reverently.  
  
Harriet bit her lip. Now that it was simply purring contentedly in Hermione’s arms she began to appreciate the cat’s appearance. His fur was very thick and looked soft and cuddly. His face was flat in an almost human-like way, and its thick tail looked adorably like a bottle-brush.  
  
“But, we share a dormitory!” Ronnie said. “How’s Scabbers supposed to get any rest and relaxation with that thing about?!”  
  
“He’s not a thing!” Hermione snapped cuddling the cat tighter. “His name’s Crookshanks. The poor dear’s been in there for ages, no one’s wanted him.”  
  
“I’m so shocked,” Ronnie grumbled, cuddling her hoodie pouch where Scabbers was hidden.  
  
“Well,” Dora said thoughtfully, scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. “If he’d be a problem in your dormitory…”  
  
Hermione glowered pulling Crookshanks away possessively. “Of course he won’t be a problem, no you would never be a problem, would you Crookshanks?” she cooed.  
  
Marcus and Ronnie both looked dumbstruck.  
  
“Oh, here,” Dora said stepping towards Ronnie. She held out the bottle of rat tonic. “You forgot this, I got it for you, it was only a few knuts.”  
  
“Oh, uh th-thanks, Dora,” Ronnie stammered, looking abashed.  
  
“And you forgot your owl treats,” Kieran said holding the bag out to Harriet.  
  
“Oh, thanks Kieran,” Harriet said reaching into her moneybag. “How much—”  
  
“Oh forget it,” Kieran said waving a hand dismissively.  
  
“But—?”  
  
“I said it’s fine,” Kieran smiled. “They’re not that much, just a two-year present for Hedwig let’s say?”  
  
Harriet blushed but smiled.  
  
“We’ve, uh, we’ve gotta get back to Fortescues,” Scott said, looking at his watch.  
  
They started back up the street, Hermione and Dora continuing to coo over Crookshanks while Ronnie kept giving the cat dirty looks and Scott gave it thoughtful ones. Harriet dropped back to talk to him.  
  
“Why do you keep looking at Crookshanks like that?”  
  
“That’s _not_ a normal cat,” Scott muttered.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“It’s too big,” Scott said. “And that fur… that cat’s part-kneazle or my name’s not Scott McIntyre.”  
  
“Kneazle?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Er, magical felines; very intelligent, almost dangerously so. Particularly, if you’re untrustworthy… lots of wizard families use them as sort of living sneakoscopes, they’re great at detecting secrecy and will actually attack those they deem threats.”  
  
Harriet digested this information but didn’t get to discuss it further as they finally reached the ice cream parlour.  
  
“There you all are,” Mrs McIntyre said. She and Mrs Weasley both looked equally worried.  
  
“We’re five minutes from noon,” Ronnie protested, looking at her watch.  
  
“No need to be snippy,” Mrs Weasley said, hands on her hips making Ronnie flush.  
  
“Sorry, mum.”  
  
Jess let out a booming laugh from nearby. They all turned to see her sitting at a table a little ways away. At first Harriet thought she was sitting by herself, but then realized she was talking to Florean Fortescue, with a distinct twinkle in her eye. Fortescue himself was looking rather flushed. Jess caught Harriet’s eye and gave her a tiny wink before she returned her attention to Fortescue.  
  
Scott rolled his eyes, going red with embarrassment as Jess continued to flirt with Fortescue.  
  
“Hey, she’s single, she deserves to have fun,” Harriet said. Jess had defended her several times from Scott’s teasing, it was only fair to defend her back.  
  
“Does she have to be so public about it though?” he moaned miserably.  
  
“Oi, Harriet, come on over here I’ll introduce you to the man himself,” Jess called. Harriet smiled and walked over.  
  
“Goodness, nice to see you again, Miss Potter,” Fortescue said bowing and pulling out a chair for Harriet to sit.  
  
Harriet sat. “How are you today, Mister Fortescue?” she asked politely.  
  
“Oh fine, thank you,” Fortescue said. “Jess and I were just discussing some magical history.”  
  
“Oh?” Harriet asked. She was immediately reminded of Professor Binns’ awful History of Magic lessons. Fortescue seemed like he would be much more interesting to learn magical history from.  
  
“Yes, just—what the devil?”  
  
Fortescue turned and looked towards the others. Harriet turned too and saw Hermione was fighting with Crookshanks. The cat had gotten out of her arms but had actually jumped up and grabbed hold of Hermione’s shirt, almost like a dog. He was tugging madly, pulling Hermione down the street.  
  
“Crookshanks, no stop Crookshanks, let go! Let—”  
  
Hermione did not get to finish her sentence. At that moment, the ground seemed to roll beneath their feet and it felt as though someone big and invisible had hit Harriet hard, knocking her off her chair. The table and chairs toppled over as well. There was a horrific boom that hurt Harriet’s ears and she clapped her hands down over them. All she could hear now was ringing. There was debris raining down all around her and she curled up, crying out in fear and pain.  
  
She opened her eyes again, panic starting to well up in her mind. What had just happened? What was going on? Where was everyone? There were feet scrambling past her going in countless directions. Strong hands grabbed hold of Harriet’s arms and hauled her up. She was face to face with Fred Weasley. His eyes were wide with shock, and he had a burst vessel in his left eye, the white mostly red now. Harriet noted he was also bleeding from his ears. His lips were moving but Harriet couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear anything but the ringing. She tried to speak but she couldn’t hear herself either.  
  
Before Harriet could do anything else, Fred knelt and hoisted her up over his shoulder. Harriet tried to protest but as she looked back from Fred’s shoulder her mouth fell open. Where there had once been a tall, grand-looking office building four places down across the street, there was now a smoking pile of rubble. The entire front of the offices had been destroyed. People were scrambling about, some running towards the wreckage to help, others running away in terror.  
  
They reached the Leaky Cauldron. Fred passed through the magical doorway in the stone wall and into the pub itself before he finally set her down. He put his hands on her cheeks and looked at her from very close.  
  
“Ha-r-r-r-riet-t-t-t-t c-c-c-can you h-h-hear me-e-e-e?” she vaguely heard Fred’s voice ask. It sounded as though he was inside a big coliseum, his voice echoing. Harriet glanced past him to see a small crowd of people being led into the pub from the street.  
  
“Ye-yeah,” Harriet replied. She was starting to be able to hear herself too.  
  
“Good. You alright? Not hurt anywhere?”  
  
“I-I don’t think so,” Harriet replied. She was starting to panic again. What if she was hurt and she didn’t know it? Her breathing started to get faster and she began looking herself over frantically trying to find injuries.  
  
Fred hugged her tight. “It’s okay Harriet, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he kept repeating over and over again.  
  
“What happened?” Harriet asked, but Fred did not answer.  
  
More adult wizards and witches were helping carry others into the pub. Everyone looked terrified and shocked. Tom came bustling up, looking around with wide, disbelieving eyes. Even from here inside the pub Harriet could see the cloud of smoke rising from the place where the tall office building used to be.  
  
“Wha-what happened?” Tom asked and he hustled out of the pub to the entrance to Diagon Alley.  
  
“My God… the _Prophet_ … someone blew up _The Daily Prophet_!” Harriet heard Tom cry out.  
  
Harriet began looking around frantically for all her friends. Scott was with his parents, the Weasleys were altogether now except for Fred who was still holding Harriet. Ginny had her hands clamped over her ears still, rocking back and forth and screaming as Mr and Mrs Weasley tried to calm her down. Kieran was sitting with his own parents, wrapped in a blanket and clutching his shillelagh tightly, his eyes wide. Hermione was clutching Crookshanks in her arms while being tended to by Jess. Dora and Emma were cuddling each other and Mr and Mrs Flamel stood over them, their wands drawn. Marcus meanwhile was with his own father, both looking equally rattled.  
  
A wave of relief washed over Harriet. Somehow, miraculously, they all looked safe. Harriet looked into the pub now. Many people were pushing forward, trying to see what was going on.  
  
“ _The Prophet_?”  
  
“Never.”  
  
“But what then?”  
  
“An accident?”  
  
“What accident could have caused an explosion like that?”  
  
However, it wasn’t the onlookers that caught Harriet’s attention. It was one man in particular. He was still sitting at his table, sipping a cup of tea placidly. He set the tea-cup down and rose to his feet. He was tall and thin, wearing a pure-white suit. He had long, black hair tied into a ponytail and a matching white fedora under his arm. He turned and actually looked Harriet right in the eyes. His gaze was steely and cold even though his lips were curled into a smile. He put a finger to his lips and turned and strode casually from the pub as if nothing had happened at all.  
  
Harriet felt her heart clench even tighter. She knew that gaze. It was the same gaze she had been fitted with by Tom Riddle. The man wasn’t Riddle, but there was no mistaking that look now. Harriet would never forget it. Once again, Harriet had just looked into the eyes of a murderer.


	7. The Bomber and the Dementor

“How sad it is how regularly our best of intentions create the worst of situations.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
When her hearing returned, everything became a blur for Harriet. She didn’t have time to process what was happening. The Leaky Cauldron was suddenly filled with Ministry employees from the department of Magical Law Enforcement, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and healers and medi-wizards from St Mungo’s Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries. In spite of it all, Harriet was impressed by how quickly and how well the Ministry responded, almost as if they were expecting something to happen. Then she reminded herself with Sirius Black on the loose, they probably were.  
  
Within twenty minutes of their arrival, Aurors were questioning everyone if they had caught sight of Black in the area. Harriet wasn’t surprised by that. What she was surprised by was the reaction when she asked Mr Weasley about the man in white. Mr Weasley had looked horror struck and within five minutes Harriet found herself in a room with Mr and Mrs Weasley, Mr and Mrs McIntyre, the head of the Auror office, the Minister of Magic himself, and a short, portly woman in a hot pink cardigan who reminded Harriet forcibly of a toad.  
  
Harriet had never seen the Head of the Auror Office before, a man named Rufus Scrimgeour, or the pink toad-woman. Harriet knew who Cornelius Fudge was, as she had been hiding in Hagrid’s hut when Fudge had arrived to arrest him for the petrification attacks on students. As Hagrid was innocent, this was still a very sore spot with Harriet.  
  
Rufus Scrimgeour was one of the more formidable looking men Harriet had ever seen. He put her in mind of an old lion. His hair was thick like a mane and streaked with grey. He also wore wire-rimmed spectacles that often flashed opaque white in the light from the crackling fireplace as he paced the floor.  
  
The woman had been introduced as Dolores Umbridge, the Minister’s Senior Undersecretary. Harriet supposed she seemed pleasant enough. She greeted everyone warmly with a girly laugh, which sounded forced to Harriet. At the moment she was sitting quietly in a corner, holding a clipboard with a piece of parchment and a quill. She was furiously writing down Harriet’s account of what she had seen and Fudge and Scrimgeour’s responses. Umbridge seemed so focused she did not notice the small, shiny blue beetle scurrying up her sleeve.  
  
Compared to Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge looked even dumpier and a little feebler than Harriet remembered. She couldn’t help feeling that if she hadn’t known who either man was she would have guessed that Scrimgeour was the Minister instead of Fudge. Fudge was sitting in an arm-chair fiddling with his bowler hat and rubbing his shiny bald spot while Scrimgeour paced, deep in thought.  
  
Fudge looked at Harriet. “You are certain that is the man you saw, Harriet?” he asked. By the sound of it, he was hoping that Harriet was not so certain.  
  
“Yes, sir,” Harriet replied. “He had long black hair, a round face, light skin, clean shaven, and was wearing an all-white suit with a white hat. He… he just looked at me, went ‘shhh’ and left. He was smiling, like he didn’t have a care in the world.”  
  
Scrimgeour continued to pace the room. “It could only be Kinney, Minister. And by his actions he was clearly involved.”  
  
“Yes, I know that, Rufus, but what can we possibly do about it? The _Prophet_ is going to be worse than ever, how could this have happened?”  
  
“We underestimated him, Minister,” Scrimgeour said. It seemed as though they had forgotten the other people were in the room. “Howe warned us about what Kinney was capable of. Never dreamed he would dare try something so bombastic, er, pardon the expression, here in Britain. Against his direct enemy in the States is one thing but to carry out an attack like this in a foreign nation that has not even given formal support of his enemy?”  
  
“He did it to send a message, that’s why he attacked the _Prophet_ ,” Fudge said, shrewdly. “Diagon Alley was full of families with children today. He could have gone after them, but he chose the _Daily Prophet_. The _Prophet_ is going to want to know what happened, and when they find out I could have saved all those lives by simply turning over a few children who aren’t even from here,” he sighed.  
  
“They would rather you turned over innocent children and give into a madman?” Mr McIntyre asked. Fudge and Scrimgeour both jumped and turned to look at Mr McIntyre. Harriet on the other hand was surprised by the way Fudge and Scrimgeour looked at him with rapt attention.  
  
“This…” Fudge sighed and put a hand on his face. “Of course I wouldn’t, Dorian. I knew Kinney was dangerous, I had been warned. But I wasn’t going to let this man walk in and take over the place, and I was certainly not going to turn over innocent children into his hands. But you know the _Prophet_ as well as anyone. They love a scandal and now I’ve got blood on my hands! _Their_ blood!”  
  
Fudge rubbed his forehead. Harriet could almost see the wheels turning in his brain. He glanced at Harriet and his eyes widened and a look of relief came over his face, as though he had just been struck with a brilliant idea.  
  
There was a knock on the door. Fudge nodded to Ms Umbridge, who got up and answered the door. Another Auror was there, looking grave and holding out an envelope. This Auror was very tall and black, with a bald-head and a fang earring.  
  
“Ah, Kingsley, come in. Any new information?”  
  
“Yes, Minister,” Kingsley said. He nodded politely to Harriet and the others before turning back to Fudge. “We have found a note, Minister, and the analysis is in on the explosives used.”  
  
Fudge grimaced and Scrimgeour crossed to Kingsley. “Well done, Shacklebolt. Let me see.”  
  
“Minister, would you mind terribly if we got Harriet to bed? She’s told you all she knows about what she saw and I don’t think we’re strictly relevant to the conversation anymore,” Mr McIntyre said putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder.  
  
“Oh, yes,” Fudge said smiling kindly at Harriet. “Thank you, my dear, for this information. You have done a great service, and it’s good to know that at least one person in all of this was paying proper attention.”  
  
Harriet flushed. Mr McIntyre nodded and put a hand under Harriet’s arm, gently lifting her to her feet. The Weasleys rose too. Fudge and Scrimgeour began talking again as they were leaving but Harriet was too distracted to hear what they were saying.  
  
Mrs Weasley guided Harriet towards her room. It was only three in the afternoon, so Harriet wasn’t sure exactly why she was going to bed. However, as she got closer and closer to the room she felt more tired. Maybe it would be good to just lie down for a little while; get washed up, get into pyjamas and lie in bed with her eyes closed. That sounded wonderful.  
  
She closed her window, shutting out the sounds coming from the street. She was just climbing into bed when Ronnie came in. “Ginny’s gonna be okay, the healers managed to get her hearing back,” Ronnie said miserably.  
  
“How’s Fred?” Harriet asked. She would never forget the sight of his stricken face, one blood-red eye and bleeding ears.  
  
“He’s okay too. His eye will be red for a while but his ears are fine.”  
  
“Good,” Harriet replied, pulling her covers up to her chin. She felt the weight of the day melting off her shoulders as she lay down.  
  
Ronnie changed too before closing the curtains. The room became almost as dark as if it were night-time. Harriet curled up on her side, grabbing one of the extra pillows and hugging it tightly to her chest.  
  
She could hear Ronnie tossing and turning as she tried to fall asleep. After what felt like an hour, she heard Ronnie slide out of bed and pad over to her. “Harriet?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Can…”  
  
“Yeah,” Harriet said immediately and pulled back her covers.  
  
Ronnie climbed in and cuddled up against Harriet. Harriet smiled remembering the times during her first year when she was having nightmares and Ronnie had comforted her. Harriet pulled the covers back over them. After another ten minutes, the door to their room opened and Ginny snuck in too. Harriet smiled making more room and finally fell asleep.  
  


### * * * *

  
When Harriet awoke the following morning, she did not want to believe the previous day had happened. But it had. She was sure of it because there was no other reason she would find herself cuddling with not just Ronnie and Ginny, but Hermione, Dora, and Emma as well. She remembered when Hermione had come in, but not the other two.  
  
The girls slowly got out of bed and all but Ronnie went back to their rooms to get cleaned-up and dressed. Harriet combed her hair and sat on her bed, just staring at her trunk as if willing it to fly open and give her some clothes to wear. Somehow, in light of everything that happened the day before, Harriet wanted to feel special and pretty. She pulled out her dinner party outfit and put it on. However, instead of the original hair scarf she put on the one she had got from Kieran.  
  
Ronnie got dressed as well, but opted for a simple t-shirt, and jeans. She put on a hoodie, stuffing the miserable looking Scabbers in the pouch. They made their way downstairs to the dining room. Harriet kept running over the previous day in her head. It had all been so peaceful and fun and it all changed with an ear-splitting explosion that shook the ground and levelled half of a five story office building.  
  
The quiet in the dining room was almost deafening after yesterday. There seemed to be no one in the pub except for the Weasleys, the McIntyres, the O’Briens, the Van De Lakks, the Flamels, Jess, Hermione and Harriet (and the Aurors who were stationed at the doors, their wands in their hands).  
  
Dora was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh that’s so cute,” Dora said admiring Harriet’s outfit as she and Ronnie reached the landing.  
  
“Oh, thanks, Dora,” Harriet replied. “Just felt like looking… nice… today…” she mumbled.  
  
Dora smiled and bumped Harriet’s shoulder. “Oh come on, Harriet, you always look nice.”  
  
Harriet flushed. “Th-thanks,” she stammered and smiled a little in spite of herself.  
  
“Since when are you so cheery and nice?” Ronnie grumbled. She sounded half-asleep.  
  
Dora scowled. “Well she did at least put a little effort into her appearance instead of looking like she just got done gardening,” she spat.  
  
Ronnie laughed. “That sounds like the snotty blondie we know and love.”  
  
Dora rolled her eyes and they made their way past one of the parlours. The adults were all inside, gathered around a table. They were all arguing amongst themselves.  
  
“I can’t believe Fudge thought he could get away with trying to pin this on Black when he knew perfectly well there were witnesses who saw Kinney. Harriet couldn’t possibly have been the only person to see him.”  
  
“But how could Skeeter have overheard? Some of the things in that article… “ _This very credible eye witness described Kinney perfectly and said he looked at her and told her to ‘shhh’ before leaving the Leaky Cauldron_.” How could Skeeter have known that? Harriet didn’t tell anyone else that information!”  
  
Harriet flushed, making her way to the sitting room, not wanting the adults to know she had overheard them talking. Despite her usual thirst for any and all information, after last night, Harriet was feeling a bit less like snooping and prying into other people’s affairs. At the moment, all she really felt like doing was being happy to be alive.  
  
That was the main thought that had struck Harriet in the middle of the night sometime between when Hermione came in and Dora and Emma apparently joined them: how close she had come to dying yesterday. And it hadn’t been because of some plot by Voldemort’s, or even Sirius Black’s. It had simply been being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It struck her in a way it never had before.  
  
They all sat down in the soft arm chairs. Kieran, Scott, Marcus and Emma were already in the room. Emma was sitting off by herself.  
  
Kieran smiled warmly. “Hey you lot,” he said in greeting and took in Harriet’s outfit. “Wow, you look great, oh, is that the scarf I got you?”  
  
“Yeah, it is,” Harriet replied, smiling.  
  
Dora shot a cryptic look at Kieran but he did not seem to notice. Instead he glanced at Scott who smiled. Harriet shook her head. She was too rattled and had too much on her mind to worry about what was going on.  
  
Hermione came in, her face stuck deep into a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. “You’ve got to hand it to them, their main office gets bombed and they still manage to print an edition the next day, full of, well, uncomfortably accurate information.”  
  
“Yeah, so we’ve heard,” Scott muttered, jerking his head towards the door where the adults were still arguing.  
  
Hermione set the paper down on the coffee table and Scott picked it up. He read it and gave a snort of disgust before passing it off to Kieran. Kieran responded the same way and handed it off to Harriet.  
  
  
 _ **BLACK STRIKES AGAIN!**_ **  
** _According to reports from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; the horrific bombing yesterday, which took the lives of thirty one members of the Daily Prophet staff as well as a family of four who were passing in front of the Daily Prophet offices at the time of the bombing, was perpetrated by none other than Sirius Black._  
  
  
Harriet gasped clamping a hand over her mouth. She felt sick to her stomach. Coupled with her realization over how close she had come to dying by mere chance, she now knew just how many people had been killed without having any idea it was coming. Even a family of four had been killed. She felt a twinge of fear. What if one of the children killed was one of their schoolmates? How could she find out?  
  
Another twinge of shock shot through Harriet’s system. It had been Kinney, the man in the white suit, who had done it. He had killed all those people. And he had looked right at her, and smiled. He had been happy he had done it.  
  
And yet, here in the article, they said it had been Sirius Black. Apparently the Ministry had told them that, but why? Cornelius Fudge knew that it had been Kinney, Harriet had told him so. Then she remembered the way Fudge had looked at her. Had that been what was going through Fudge’s mind? He wanted to blame it on Black so the _Prophet_ wouldn’t report on Fudge not apprehending another mass-murderer on the loose?  
  
But if that was the case, what had the adults been talking about? Harriet flipped to the other half of the front page.  
  
  
 ** _Black not to Blame?_**  
 _Contrary to contemporary reports, yesterday’s vile, unmitigated attack on the Ministry of Magic offices (which nearly took the life of your dear author as well incidentally) which took the lives of many good, decent, hard-working Daily Prophet employees, was not the work of escaped mass-murderer, Sirius Black. No, instead, this heinous crime was carried out by someone entirely unknown to the wider magical population of Britain.  
  
I, Rita Skeeter, can report exclusively that the murderous assault on innocent lives yesterday was carried out by an American by the name of Solomon Kinney. Never heard of him? Of course you haven’t. The Ministry saw to that. Apparently Mister Kinney was sent as an envoy from one of the seceding states in America to ‘fetch’ some of the refugee students. Through a spy network, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, was informed of this and intervened.  
  
This is where the praise for the Minister’s actions ends. For you see, Fudge had been made aware of just how dangerous this individual was, and how his aim was not to reclaim misplaced children, but to kidnap them or worse in an attempt to silence their families who have been speaking out against the war. Fudge naturally refused Kinney and ordered him sent away. But in the process, Kinney clearly escaped.  
  
Now I know, you may say ‘well if Fudge refused him and saved children’s lives, why stop the praise?’ Well it may have done the wider wizarding population of Britain some good to have been made aware of a killer, possibly even more dangerous than Sirius Black being on the loose? Because Solomon Kinney’s death toll does not begin with the bombing of The Daily Prophet.  
  
No, it also happens to include another bombing that took place exactly one year ago today in America. Solomon Kinney was also responsible for the_ Merlin Stadium Bombing _that killed no less than three hundred people by the time the rubble was cleared. And in that incident it was mostly Muggles who were killed. For Solomon Kinney is the devious striking arm of the lawless American Secessionist movement. And now he is running rampant in Britain, waiting to strike again.  
  
Continued Page 2._  
  
  
Harriet turned the page.  
  
  
 _Continued from Page 1.  
  
The truth of Kinney’s involvement was verified shortly after the bombing itself, when an eye-witness spotted Kinney in the Leaky Cauldron within minutes of the attack. This very credible eye witness described Kinney perfectly and said he looked at her and told her to ‘shhh’ before leaving the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Frankly, this is inexcusable. Fudge should have never taken these refugees, these outsiders, on in the first place. And he should send them right back where they came from. We don’t need America’s troubles here in Britain. Good riddance to bad rubbish! If only he had seen such sense before yesterday’s senseless violence._  
  
  
Harriet’s stomach churned. She did not know who to be madder at; Fudge for lying or this Skeeter woman for calling her friends ‘bad rubbish’ and suggesting they be sent back to a warzone. She put down the paper and Dora picked it up to read.  
  
Harriet didn’t know how to feel anymore. The only thing she knew was she wanted to get on the Hogwarts Express now more than ever. She wanted to get as far away from here as possible, to the only place she truly felt at home. She wanted to see the big castle and feel safe knowing nothing could get to her in there, not with Professor Dumbledore to protect them.  
  
There was a quiet knock on the door to the sitting room and everyone turned. Jess was looking around at them all sympathetically. “Alright loves, time tah go. The Ministry will be escorting us all to the station in cars.”  
  
No one spoke as they got to their feet and followed Jess from the room. Harriet watched Ministry wizards carrying their trunks, owl cages, and one wicker basket containing the hissing, spitting Crookshanks, down the stairs for them and out the front door of the pub. There was a line of cars waiting, all with little flags marked “MoM” on the bonnets. Harriet was surprised, and so was everyone else, when the tall black Auror named Kingsley diverted Harriet from getting into the same car as her friends and instead to a car at the front of the line.  
  
He opened the door for her and gave her a reassuring nod. Harriet climbed inside and was surprised to find Cornelius Fudge and his senior undersecretary again. The door closed and Fudge smiled down at her.  
  
“Well, Harriet, I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted a little further word with you in private, and thought this the most discrete way for all involved to do so,” Fudge said pleasantly as the driver started the car.  
  
“O-okay,” Harriet said nervously. She was suddenly worried Fudge might think she had talked to that Skeeter woman.  
  
“Well Harriet, I wanted to talk to you about this past summer,” Fudge went on. “More specifically, about the night of the unfortunate incident with your Aunt.”  
  
Harriet grimaced. She didn’t want to talk about that at all.  
  
“I must say, Harriet, in light of the dangerous climate we’re in, that I’m slightly disappointed that you chose to run off with two men you barely knew, rather than staying and waiting for official members of the Ministry of Magic to arrive and straighten the situation out,” Fudge said.  
  
Harriet flushed. “I… well… I didn’t have a choice, sir… I was in shock from what had happened and then when the real Ministry wizards showed up Professor Howe grabbed my hand and we all just, ran…”  
  
Fudge looked down at Harriet, his expression a calculating one. “Hmmm… Harriet, how many times have you met with Professor Sherrod Howe?”  
  
Harriet thought. “Only… only once before, sir. The night Justin and Nearly-Headless Nick got petrified.”  
  
“Hm. Well, you’ll find this hard to believe, Harriet, as I know he has a certain level of charisma and charm, but I would advise you in the strongest possible terms not to trust Sherrod Howe.”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Sherrod often has his own agenda, and rarely does anything without having some personal reason. I might add that not even Professor Dumbledore trusts Sherrod Howe completely. Dumbledore was not happy that you were removed from your Aunt and Uncle’s house either, you know?”  
  
“Yeah, I-I did know,” Harriet muttered.  
  
She was suddenly starting to feel angry. Harriet knew one thing: Professor Howe had not lied to her. In fact, he had tried to tell her so much it made other people angry. Yet here was Fudge who had lied to not just Harriet, but the entire country. Not to mention he had arrested Hagrid, knowing Hagrid was probably innocent.  
  
“Ah, yes, well, all I wanted to say, really. Just be cautious any time you are in contact with Sherrod Howe,” Fudge said.  
  
“Says you,” muttered Harriet before she could stop herself.  
  
“What was that?” Dolores Umbridge snapped while Fudge looked taken aback. Harriet noted that the girlish simper was gone from Umbridge’s voice and she went from looking like a toad to a full-on bullfrog.  
  
Harriet crossed her arms. “At least he didn’t lie to everyone about what was going on with Kinney.”  
  
Fudge looked very uncomfortable. He fiddled with his bowler hat again. “That was… unfortunate,” he said. “But it was necessary. We had expected Kinney to be removed from the country and it was almost a month before we figured out the Auror who was escorting him had been confounded so as to not remember Kinney escaping. By that point we had no idea where Kinney was or what he was truly capable of. I take it you read Miss Skeeter’s take on the matter? Well, she only got it part right. It is still only rumoured that Kinney was behind the _Merlin Stadium Bombing_ , not confirmed.”  
  
Fudge heaved a sigh. “And then I came up with the Black cover-story to continue to protect the refugees. I knew that revelation would breed more resentment towards them. The less people are aware of them, the safer they are. But, can’t keep anything from the press, I suppose.”  
  
Harriet blinked. She had not expected Fudge to be that forthcoming, especially after Professor Howe had warned Harriet that Fudge and Dumbledore wanted to keep her in the dark. It was also not at all what Harriet had expected Fudge to say. Now she had no idea what to think of him. Fortunately, the awkward situation was diffused when the cars finally arrived at King’s Cross. Harriet got out without a look back at either Fudge or Umbridge and stomped irritably back to her friends.  
  
“What’s eating you?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Later,” Harriet muttered as an Auror brought up a trolley to put their luggage on.  
  
They loaded up their trunks and made their way as a group into King’s Cross Station. Harriet felt as though she was on auto-pilot as the Aurors smoothly funnelled the families through the hidden barrier to Platform 9 ¾. Before Harriet even realized it, she was pulling her trunk up onto one of the cars of the Hogwarts Express and putting it into a compartment with her friends.  
  
They made their way back onto the platform to say their goodbyes. Harriet flushed but was rather pleased that she got plenty of extra hugs from all the parents. The whistle sounded, they climbed back aboard and the train pulled forward.  
  
As the Hogwarts Express sped away, Harriet felt the weight beginning to slide off her shoulders. She was going back to Hogwarts. Back to Quidditch, and classes, and the Great Hall, the Gryffindor Common Room and her soft four poster bed.  
  
They made their way back to their compartment. As they did, Ronnie brought up another subject that made Harriet feel even better: Hogsmeade. “It’ll be so great to get out of the castle and grounds, won’t it?” she asked as they reached their compartment and Marcus opened the door.  
  
“Definitely,” Harriet agreed. Hermione stepped into the compartment and they began filing in behind her. However, Hermione stopped, causing a domino effect of the others bumping into each other.  
  
“What is it?” Ginny asked, rubbing her nose where she had bumped it into Marcus’s back.  
  
“There’s someone else in here,” Hermione whispered.  
  
Harriet wondered why she was whispering but as the others moved inside, she found out. There was indeed a man sitting in a corner leaned up against the window. He looked to be sound asleep, breathing deeply.  
  
By his face, Harriet would have guessed him to be in his thirties, but his hair had turned almost entirely grey. His robes were shabby and patched, and the soles were starting to come off his shoes.  
  
“Where did he come from?” Scott asked. “He wasn’t in here when we put our trunks in.”  
  
“Hey Ginny!” called a voice from down the corridor.  
  
Ginny beamed and waved enthusiastically at two of her fellow second-years, Minako Minagawa and Minami Takamiya. She grabbed Emma’s hand and began pulling her enthusiastically down the corridor.  
  
“Come on, Emma! I’ll introduce you to my friends!”  
  
“But-but—!” Emma protested but to no avail as Ginny hauled her off.  
  
Dora laughed. “And she’s off… I knew school would do her a lot of good.”  
  
They sat, the four girls on one side, while the boys sat next to the sleeping man.  
  
“Who do you think he is?” Harriet asked. Despite having no idea who the man was, she couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about him.  
  
“Well, it says Professor R. J. Lupin on his case,” Hermione said, pointing at the luggage rack over Professor Lupin’s head. Harriet looked and saw the case there, which looked just as shabby as its owner.  
  
“Think he’s the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Scott asked.  
  
“Must be,” Hermione said. “That’s the only vacancy I can think of.”  
  
“Well, there is Muggle Studies,” Scott replied. “Miss Burbage left.”  
  
“She did?” Hermione asked sounding disappointed. “I was looking forward to studying under her. I heard a lot of good things about her last spring.”  
  
“Well she runs the Department of Misplaced Youths at the Ministry. Essentially she liaises with the Muggle families of the American students and tries to protect them from people like Kinney,” Scott explained.  
  
“Well, okay that is a much loftier position then,” Hermione said.  
  
There was a hissing and spitting from the luggage rack above them and Hermione got up, opening Crookshanks basket. To everyone’s surprise, Crookshanks leapt not onto any of their laps, but rather in the gap between Marcus and Professor Lupin, where he curled up and purred.  
  
“Well, Crookshanks seems to be a fan of Professor Lupin, anyway,” Scott muttered.  
  
Crookshanks continued to purr, but Harriet couldn’t help but notice that his bright, yellow eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the pocket of Ronnie’s hoodie which contained the trembling Scabbers.  
  
“You know,” Dora said thoughtfully. “I was thinking about those articles this morning… we know Black didn’t do it, but, for all the stories about him he has been rather quiet since his escape, hasn’t he? No sightings, nothing. He just disappeared.”  
  
“That’s—that’s a good point,” Hermione said. “There hasn’t been any news about him at all, outside descriptions.”  
  
“It’s like they’re in a total panic over Black but they really did ignore Kinney altogether,” Kieran added. “That is a little strange.”  
  
At that moment, a very faint whistling noise could be heard. They looked around when Ronnie pointed above Harriet’s head. “It’s coming from your trunk.”  
  
Harriet got up and opened her trunk. It was her Pocket Sneakoscope that she had placed inside a pair of Aunt Petunia’s old pantyhose for safe-keeping.  
  
“Oo, is that a Sneakoscope?” Hermione asked. “Where did you get it?”  
  
“I gave it to her for her birthday,” Ronnie said. “It’s a really cheap one, mind. It kept lighting up and spinning at random times. Like when I was trying to tie it to Errol’s leg to send to Harriet. Destroyed the first box I had it in, had to repackage it.”  
  
“Hmmm,” Hermione hummed shrewdly. “Errol’s a really old owl, yes?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Ronnie said bemused.  
  
“Were you _supposed_ to be using him to send a package to Harriet?”  
  
“Well, no,” Ronnie admitted. “But how else was I supposed to get Harriet her present?!”  
  
Marcus laughed. “Either way, sounds like we identified the culprit!”  
  
Ronnie rolled her eyes and kicked his foot.  
  
“Though, if it does work, who’s being untrustworthy?” Kieran asked.  
  
Everyone looked around. Scott got up and flung the door to the compartment open. “No one there,” he said sitting back down.  
  
All eyes turned back to Professor Lupin, but if Lupin was still only pretending to sleep, he was very good at it. He barely moved except for the steady, slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept. Marcus even poked him very gently on the shoulder but he did not show any sign of noticing.  
  
“Well, maybe it is a little faulty then,” Hermione admitted.  
  
Dora shrugged. “Who knows, anyway, it is weird isn’t it? I mean, they’re in such an uproar over Black that they’ve stationed Dementors around the Hogwarts grounds,” Dora added.  
  
“Dementors?” Harriet asked. She felt a chill run down her spine at the word. She had only ever heard rumours about the nature of Dementors, and she did not like them one bit.  
  
“Yeah, I remember Dad complaining about it this summer. He didn’t want them there anymore than Dumbledore did,” Dora explained.  
  
“Heh, sounds like he and Dumbledore have a good bit of sense about them then,” Marcus muttered, idly scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. The cat’s gaze did not waiver from the hidden Scabbers.  
  
“Well, at least Dad and Dumbledore convinced the Ministry not to let the Dementors into the grounds, could you imagine trying to get through lessons or just living with those things sucking all the happiness out of you all the time?” Dora asked scoffing. “I mean it’s bad enough I’m in Slytherin but come on!”  
  
“Bad enough you’re in Slytherin?” Ronnie asked raising an eyebrow.  
  
Dora rolled her eyes. “I just mean they’re not the cheeriest lot.”  
  
“Suuuuuure,” Ronnie teased.  
  
They passed more time talking about their new elective classes and trips into Hogsmeade. Harriet was excited to see the inside of Dusk to Dawn, the large Muggle clothing store where they had bought Ronnie her first football gear. The chance to buy her own brand new clothes that would fit her from the start was too good to pass up.  
  
Hermione rattled on about the historical sites in Hogsmeade she wanted to see, while Ronnie fantasized over how much she wanted to get into Honeydukes, the wizarding sweets shop. The talk of Honeydukes made Harriet so hungry she almost jumped to her feet when the witch with the food trolley knocked on their door.  
  
They attempted to rouse Professor Lupin but he still did not move. The witch told them she would be up front with the driver should Professor Lupin awake and want food. The group sat with their purchases and studied the sleeping man again.  
  
“He didn’t… like… die, did he?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“No… he’s still breathing,” Marcus muttered looking closer at Professor Lupin.  
  
A couple hours later it began to rain. The door to the compartment slid open and three people stepped in. Harriet had expected it to be Draco Malfoy and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle, but she was surprised (and not pleasantly) to see that it was instead her other three least favourite Slytherins; Pansy Parkinson, Pixie Fanfarró, and Wendy Aarons.  
  
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Pansy said. She looked as much like a pug as ever as she smirked around at them all.  
  
“Well ‘ladies’ isn’t quite the word I would use,” Pixie said taking in Ronnie’s hoodie and jeans. Behind them, Wendy laughed sycophantically. “And Potter what on _earth_ are you wearing?”  
  
“Better than what you’re wearing,” Dora snapped. “Didn’t the whole big pearl necklace and bangles thing go out of style two years ago?”  
  
Pixie glowered but Pansy ignored her, still focusing on Harriet. “You go to a school that requires you to wear them but you _willingly_ chose to wear knee-highs? How are you not sick of them?” Pansy taunted.  
  
Harriet flushed but Pixie started back in. “And that scarf, you seriously think that’s gonna fool people that you don’t have that stupid scar?”  
  
Ronnie, Dora and Scott all made to get to their feet but to Harriet’s surprise it was Kieran who got up first, using his shillelagh to pull himself up rapidly.  
  
“Ooooo tough guy,” Pansy smirked not backing down. She glanced from Kieran to the scarf and back. “Awwww, I get it. _You_ bought that for pwetty widdle Potter, didn’t you? Dat’s sho shweet… Made shuwe it matched her pwetty gween eyes?” she said, speaking in a sing-songy, baby-ish voice. Kieran scowled but his face went white and he gripped his shillelagh tighter.  
  
“Did you send her one of those wovy-dovy poems wast Vawentine’s Day too?” Pixie smirked, adopting the same voice. Wendy laughed even harder.  
  
Professor Lupin snorted. Pansy, Pixie and Wendy froze.  
  
“Who’s that?” Pansy asked.  
  
“New teacher,” Ronnie growled, now on her feet too. “Shove off.”  
  
Pansy and Pixie glared before turning their noses up in the air and strutting from the compartment in a huff, Wendy following in their wake.  
  
“What cows,” Hermione spat.  
  
Kieran sat, determinedly not meeting anyone’s eyes, staring at his feet.  
  
“So sick of those two,” Dora growled. “How insecure do you have to be to go looking for someone to make feel bad?”  
  
Harriet didn’t say anything. She was looking down at her lap, strongly contemplating taking out some plainer clothes and changing in one of the rest rooms on the train. Dora bumped her shoulder.  
  
“Oh stop it, you look fabulous and you know it,” Dora said. “Just watch, give it a year or two and everyone’ll be wearing them.”  
  
Harriet managed a little smile.  
  


### * * * *

  
A few hours later, Harriet was sure they must be nearing Hogwarts. The storm outside had grown worse howling and rattling the window. Despite sleeping right against the window, Professor Lupin still showed no sign of waking.  
  
The lights were lit in the corridor, and students had stopped running past. It was starting to feel unnaturally cold. Harriet shivered and hugged her light cardigan tighter around her. The three boys all looked at each other and rose getting into their trunks. Marcus and Scott both pulled out jumpers while Kieran took out a hoodie of his own. The boys all turned and handed them over to Dora, Hermione, and Harriet respectively.  
  
Harriet flushed and put on the hoodie. It didn’t exactly match, but it was warm. Harriet stuck her hands in the pouch but at that very moment, the train began to slow down.  
  
“That’s strange,” Scott said looking out the window. “We can’t be there yet.”  
  
“Then why are we stopping?” Dora asked. “Think we’ve broken down?”  
  
“Maybe?” Kieran muttered. He got up and looked out the compartment door. At that moment, all the lights inside the car went out, plunging them into total darkness.  
  
“What the—” Marcus muttered then yelped in pain. “That was my foot!”  
  
“Sorry,” Scott said.  
  
The door to the compartment opened.  
  
“Does anyone know what’s going on?” came the voice of Neville Longbottom.  
  
“Hey, Neville,” Harriet said. “No clue. Here sit—OW!”  
  
Neville tripped over her legs.  
  
“Sorry,” Neville muttered trying to get up to his feet. There was a hiss and Neville now shouted in pain. Apparently he had tried to sit on Crookshanks. There was a snort of a much deeper voice. Apparently Professor Lupin had woken up.  
  
“What’s going on?” Harriet heard him ask. His voice was hoarse and gruff, yet there was gentleness to his tone.  
  
“Uh, the train stopped and the lights went out,” Ronnie said.’  
  
“No, you think?” Dora muttered.  
  
“I’m going to speak to the driver,” Professor Lupin said.  
  
There was a crackling sound and Harriet blinked as a bright blue light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin was holding the same blue flames that Hermione knew how to conjure in his bare hand. Marcus, who was fond of flame spells, watched in awe.  
  
Harriet however was looking at Professor Lupin’s face. Again she could not help the feeling that there was something very familiar about him. His face looked even more lined and prematurely aged in the light from the flames, but his eyes were bright and alert.  
  
Professor Lupin got to his feet and made his way to the door. He opened the door but grunted and took a step backwards. There were two squeals of surprise followed by two thump noises. In the light from Professor Lupin’s flames, Harriet could see Ginny and Emma past him, sitting on the floor. Apparently they had run into him.  
  
“Uh h-hello,” Ginny said looking up at Professor Lupin with wide eyes. Professor Lupin smiled and held out a hand. Emma and Ginny both took hold of his hand and he pulled them up to their feet.  
  
“Get into the compartment girls, there’s something going on and I need you to get into the compartment and close the door,” Professor Lupin said. The students nodded as Emma and Ginny sat in Professor Lupin’s vacated seat.  
  
He gave them all a reassuring smile and turned to leave the compartment. However, his path was blocked yet again. This time, it was by a towering, hooded and cloaked figure. Its robes were jet black, so black it seemed to suck all light into it. Harriet looked down and felt her insides clench.  
  
There was a hand sticking out of its sleeve. The most horrible hand Harriet had ever seen. It looked rotted, covered in scabs and open, puss-seeping sores. The skin that wasn’t covered in sores and scabs was grey and shiny, as if covered in slime. The hand vanished up into the sleeve and Harriet heard the newcomer take a deep, slow, rattling breath. It sounded the way Harriet imagined a dying person would sound, taking his last breaths.  
  
The moment it began breathing, all heat was sucked from the room. Harriet instantly felt chilled to the bone despite wearing the hoodie. The cold started sapping her of energy and she felt light-headed. Her eyes lost focus and she lost her sense of balance. She felt like she was sinking in a deep pool.  
  
In the distance, Harriet could hear something. It was high-pitched and growing louder. Harriet suddenly became aware that it was a scream. Someone, a woman by the sound of it, was screaming and pleading at the top of her lungs. Harriet wanted to help, but she felt so helpless herself, lost, doomed to be unhappy forever.  
  
“Harriet!”  
  
Harriet started. She opened her eyes and saw little spots of yellow light floating above her as well as black shapes. They looked hooded. It was more of the cloaked figure in the doorway. Harriet struggled trying to get away but she felt soft hands holding her. They were definitely not the scaly, scabbed hands of the cloaked figure.  
  
“Harriet, wake up!”  
  
Harriet gave her head a shake and finally came to her senses. She was lying on her back on one of the seats. Everyone was leaning down over her. The lights were back on and she felt like she was moving, which meant the train had started once more. Harriet looked around.  
  
Scott was sitting with an arm around Hermione who was shivering. Ronnie was holding Ginny who looked as though she had been drained by Riddle’s diary again. Dora was holding Emma while Marcus was sitting huddled up in the corner that Professor Lupin had been sleeping in. His eyes were wide and staring straight ahead. He looked almost dead. Neville and Professor Lupin were watching her and Harriet realized that by the angle, Kieran was directly above her. More than that, the pillow under her head could only be his lap.  
  
Harriet tried to sit up quickly but her head swam once more and, embarrassing or not, she realized it was much, much easier to just lie down.  
  
“Are you alright?” Kieran asked.  
  
“Y-yeah,” Harriet muttered. “I think so… what happened… wh-where was the screaming coming from…?”  
  
“Uh, what screaming?” Ronnie asked.  
  
Harriet started when she heard a loud snapping sound. Professor Lupin had gotten into his trunk and had taken out a large chocolate bar and was breaking it into pieces. He began handing the broken pieces out to everyone.  
  
“Here, eat this chocolate, all of you,” he said. “It’s the best thing to fight off the aftereffects.”  
  
“Aftereffects of what?” Dora asked, shivering. “What was that thing?”  
  
“That was a Dementor,” Professor Lupin said. “Chocolate adds sugar to your system and builds endorphins in your brain, fighting off the effect the Dementors have. All of you eat the pieces I gave you while I go and speak to the driver.”  
  
Without another word, Professor Lupin strode out of the compartment and turned down the corridor. Everyone looked at Harriet again, except for Marcus who still seemed to be vacant. Feeling awkward, Harriet slowly tried to sit up again. Kieran helped lift her up and she took a bite of the chocolate. Professor Lupin had been right. Harriet felt warmth moving through her whole body.  
  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Hermione asked.  
  
“I… what happened?” Harriet asked. “I just remember the Dementor coming in and then… nothing.”  
  
“Well, yeah, it-it came in and… first it just looked around, and then it started breathing these horrible breaths and you just, fell over on the seat,” Dora explained, rocking Emma a little. Had Harriet been in better spirits, she probably would have found the image of little Dora cuddling her five inch taller younger sister slightly comical.  
  
“I thought you were having a seizure or something,” Ronnie said.  
  
“And then Professor Lupin drew his wand and pointed it at the Dementor. He said ‘You can sense Sirius Black is not here, now go!’ But the Dementor didn’t leave, so he shot a Patronus at it and the Dementor left.”  
  
“He shot a _what_ at it?” Harriet asked.  
  
“A Patronus,” Scott said. “It’s a special charm to ward off Dementors.”  
  
“It was bright, blinding silver light and I saw something move, it looked like an animal or something but I was too blinded to tell, and the Dementor left,” Hermione explained.  
  
Harriet shivered and clutched Kieran’s hoodie tighter around herself. The chocolate had not got rid of all the after effects yet it seemed.  
  
“Didn’t… didn’t anyone else pass out?” Harriet asked. She was starting to feel a little ashamed.  
  
“N-no…” Ronnie said. “Ginny’s shaking like mad though and… I don’t know what’s up with Marcus.”  
  
She let go of Ginny and moved over to the other seat. She put a hand on Marcus shoulder and he seemed to relax a little.  
  
“Are you alright?” She asked holding up the piece of chocolate that Professor Lupin had set on the seat next to him.  
  
Marcus slowly turned his head and looked at her. It was almost eerie, as if he were possessed. He took the chocolate and stuck it in his mouth, turning and looking out the window without saying a word. Ronnie bit her lip nervously but still rested a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Professor Lupin came back in. He smiled to see them all eating their chocolate. “Good, is it working?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” everyone replied. Marcus only nodded.  
  
“Good. We’ll be there in ten minutes. Are you okay, Harriet?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Harriet repeated.  
  
Professor Lupin smiled and left the compartment once more. No one spoke as the train continued on, rattling and swaying, to its final destination of Hogsmeade Station.


	8. The Lost Boy and the Princess

“I once read how species adapt more rapidly in small, confined areas and small populations. I do not think that is necessarily true, particularly in the case of humanity. We humans instead are better served by knowledge. We need to be mobile and open and exploratory. We need to discover and seek out that which is new, rather than stay in a small space hoping for the best. How can you learn what is new and is different about life if you never seek it?”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
None of the group had said a word by the time the Hogwarts Express chugged to a halt at Hogsmeade Station. As the train stopped, everyone pulled their robes from their trunks and put them on. The first to speak was Hermione, who broke the silence as she attempted to coax an irritated Crookshanks back into his wicker basket.  
  
They left the compartment and exited the train. The rain had finally abated, and Harriet caught sight of the first comforting reminder that she really was back at Hogwarts: the massive form of Rubeus Hagrid.  
  
Hagrid was beaming down at her, his beetle-black eyes glinting over his bushy, tangled beard. “Alright you lot?” He asked cheerily clapping Marcus on the back and nearly toppling him. “Oh, sorry,” he said quickly, picking Marcus up by the back of his robes.  
  
“Eh, it’s alright,” Marcus said in an ever suffering tone. This familiar incident seemed to cheer Marcus, as he smiled for the first time since the Dementor had entered the carriage.  
  
“FIRS’ YEARS ‘IS WAY!” Hagrid called out.  
  
Dora prodded Emma forward. Emma glanced back at her, whimpering. Emma didn’t get a chance to express her fears any more as Hagrid chuckled and placed his giant hand on her back (which was entirely covered by his hand) and shepherded her along with the other nervous looking first-year students.  
  
“You really believe in sink or swim, don’t you?” Ronnie taunted.  
  
Dora scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
Ronnie shrugged. “You just kinda send her off when it comes to new things, like on the train with Ginny or now with Hagrid.”  
  
Dora rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, cuz sending her off with Hagrid or Ginny is _so_ traumatic. How can I live with myself?”  
  
Scott laughed. “Aye, that’s kinda like teaching her to swim in a kiddie-pool isn’t it?” Scott teased. Everyone laughed, even Ronnie.  
  
They made their way off the platform onto a rough dirt trail which was mostly mud from the rain. Harriet had never been this way before. On her first trip to Hogwarts she was taken across the lake in one of the boats with Hagrid just as Emma was. Last year they had taken Mr Weasley’s flying Ford Anglia, which had ended with them being pummelled by the Whomping Willow.  
  
Remembering the latter experience, Harriet had to question the odd way coincidences seemed to work, particularly in the magical world. While being knocked about and battered by the Whomping Willow had not been pleasant, Harriet had to remind herself that had it not happened, the car wouldn’t have been around to save her and Kieran from two of Aragog’s offspring.  
  
Harriet walked on the grass along the edge of the path, trying not to get mud on her white shoes. They reached a junction of the road that was lined with horseless carriages. Harriet looked up and down the line, seeing students getting into the carriages. Harriet supposed they must have been magically enchanted to pull themselves.  
  
Harriet did have to pause at a very odd sight. It was Luna Lovegood, Ginny’s friend, who lived with her equally strange father in the village of Ottery St Catchpole. While Luna herself was odd enough, at the moment she was outdoing herself. While most students were trying to get onto the carriages, Luna was standing at the front of one and talking to thin air. She even raised a hand as if petting an imaginary horse.  
  
“Barking,” Ronnie muttered.  
  
Harriet nodded though she grimaced looking down at the mud. There was no way to avoid the mud to get to the carriage.  
  
“Here,” said the husky voice of Professor Lupin behind them.  
  
The group turned and watched Professor Lupin take off his robes. His clothes underneath were every bit as shabby as his robes, with big patches on the elbows and knees of his shirt and trousers. He smiled, stepped past them to lay the robes down on the mud between the grass and the carriage.  
  
The girls thanked Professor Lupin, all of them a bit giggly and flushed as they used the robes to get into the carriage without muddying their feet. The boys were all stealing glances at each other. Harriet imagined they were all silently asking themselves ‘why didn’t I think of that?’  
  
Professor Lupin smiled at the boys as he picked up his robes and shook them out. He pulled out his wand and cleaned the mud and water off them before putting the robes back on.  
  
“Consider that your very first lesson this term, boys,” Professor Lupin said before he turned and walked off to the carriage behind theirs.  
  
“Well, maybe he is the Muggle-Studies Professor then?” Scott said as he climbed into the carriage.  
  
“Why do you say that?” Hermione asked.  
  
“Because that was sort of a, well, Muggle-ish gesture,” he said.  
  
“Well, if he is, I do sort of wish I’d taken Muggle Studies then,” Ronnie said, elbowing Marcus in the ribs as he sat down.  
  
“Oi!” he grunted and rolled his eyes. He smiled in spite of himself which reassured Harriet. He had got most of the colour back and seemed much healthier than he had after the Dementor. It appeared to have affected her and Marcus the most. She wondered why.  
  
The carriage began moving forward on its own. Harriet sat back in her seat, starting to feel better. She still felt a little weaker than usual, but the chocolate had indeed done wonders as Professor Lupin had said it would.  
  
Secretly, she hoped he would be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. This was partly because he had a very comforting air about him. It was also because Harriet had not signed up to take Muggle-Studies classes, and she had a strong desire to have him as a teacher.  
  
Harriet leaned forward to look out the window. They were coming up to the magnificent iron gates that barred entrance to the Hogwarts grounds. They were supported by great stone columns with winged boars perched on top of them. These were intimidating enough, but at their base stood two more Dementors.  
  
Harriet closed her eyes. The horribly familiar wave of bitter cold washed over her and her stomach churned. Hermione gave her hand a comforting squeeze and Harriet squeezed back, willing herself not to throw up.  
  
The feeling passed as they got deeper into the grounds. Finally the carriage stopped in front of the front doors to the castle. They climbed out and immediately Harriet heard the unwelcome voice she had been expecting to hear ever since she boarded the Hogwarts Express. What she had not expected was Malfoy to go after someone else.  
  
“Van De Lakk, did you seriously pass out? Was Longbottom telling the truth? Did you really pass out?” Malfoy was grinning as though all his Christmases had come true at once. “I mean I could see Potter _fainting_ , but you?”  
  
“I did not!” Marcus snapped. He took a step towards Malfoy but Scott held him back. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly.  
  
“He did not, Malfoy!” Ronnie growled, stepping in front of Marcus.  
  
“Awwww, bet you fainted too, didn’t you Weasley? I can just picture it; you put on such a tough girl act but the moment a scary old Dementor shows up you just go to pieces like the poor little girl you are,” Malfoy taunted. Now Harriet and Hermione grabbed Ronnie’s arms to hold her back.  
  
“Speaking of poor,” sniggered Pansy Parkinson who stepped around Crabbe and smirked at Ronnie. “I heard your daddy finally got his hands on some gold this summer.”  
  
“Pity they couldn’t have spent any of it on you or your sister,” Pixie said, stepping around from behind Goyle and eyeing Ronnie’s clothes once more. “But I guess with so many kids they just stopped caring about the youngest ones.”  
  
“Is there a problem here?” Professor Lupin asked. Harriet sighed with relief as he stepped out of the carriage behind them.  
  
Malfoy glowered, looking at Professor Lupin in a calculating way. Harriet wondered if Pansy and Pixie had warned him about Professor Lupin.  
  
“Oh no, _Professor_ ,” Malfoy said. He gave a little smirk to Pixie, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle and they turned to head into the school.  
  
Harriet and her friends smiled appreciatively to Professor Lupin and made their way up into the school. Harriet felt a shiver of happiness and excitement as she passed the threshold of the school. The familiar grand entrance hall with the massive stone staircase filled her with a sense of home that not even the Burrow had ever given her.  
  
“Potter, Granger? I want to see you both.”  
  
Harriet and Hermione both stopped and turned, looking up at Professor McGonagall.  
  
“Why?” Harriet asked.  
  
“I would just like a word with you both in my office,” Professor McGonagall replied.  
  
“It won’t be long will it?” Harriet asked, looking up at Professor McGonagall with pleading eyes. “I really want to see the Sorting. Dora’s little sister’s being sorted this year.”  
  
“Well—well it might—oh, hello Remus,” Professor McGonagall said to Professor Lupin.  
  
Professor Lupin smiled. “Wonderful to see you again as well, Professor McGonagall,” he said looking around the entrance hall. Harriet saw him beaming with familiarity at the sight and felt her sense of admiration and affection for Professor Lupin growing.  
  
Professor Lupin smiled down at Harriet now. “Well, I tell you, Professor McGonagall. Young Harriet here certainly has a strong constitution about her. Gave her just one piece of chocolate after the encounter and she perked right up again.”  
  
Professor McGonagall nodded. “I see. Well then Potter, if you think you are alright, you may join the feast. However, I would still like a word with you, Miss Granger.”  
  
Hermione looked hopeful. “Is-is this about—”  
  
“Yes, Miss Granger. Move along then the rest of you,” Professor McGonagall said.  
  
The rest of the group hurried into the Great Hall as Hermione grinned excitedly and followed Professor McGonagall.  
  
“Wonder what that was about?” Scott asked.  
  
“No idea,” Dora said distracted. “Better get to our tables though, you know,” she rolled her eyes, “ _traditions_.”  
  
The group laughed and made their way to their tables. Harriet could hear Ronnie and Marcus’ stomachs growling even over the din of talking students. Her face split into a wider grin when there was a shriek of glee and Rachel came running towards them. Rachel was as tiny as ever and she laughed, hugging Harriet tight. Katy, AJ and Tori came over as well. Over Rachel’s shoulder, Harriet could see Erica sitting with Angelina, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet.  
  
They sat, filling everyone in on their summers. The girls all bemoaned being barred from leaving the school over the summer due to the threat of Kinney. As they discussed this subject, Harriet stole glances up and down the table. Once more, the attitudes of normal students towards the American students seemed a little cold. Harriet sighed. Had they read Skeeter’s article too?  
  
 _Well if they have read it and also believe the new students should be “sent back where they came from,” that’s their problem_ , Harriet thought. They hadn’t chosen to be attacked and displaced from their homes. Now Harriet thought about it, she felt an even stronger connection to them, as she now had a deranged psychopath after her too.  
  
Harriet looked up at the staff table and smiled. There was Professor Dumbledore, his white beard looking faintly gold in the glinting candle-light. As she looked at him, she felt the final effects of the encounter with the Dementor wash away. The sense of power that radiated from Professor Dumbledore seemed to fill her with the same sense of calm that petting the unicorns had.  
  
Professor Dumbledore was leaning over, talking with a man who Harriet had never seen before. He was wearing white robes and white headdress held on by a double circlet made of black cord. He was thickly built and tall, with very tan skin and twinkling eyes. His lips were curled into a wide, cheery grin.  
  
He spoke very rapidly and Harriet had a hard time following his lips. She wasn’t sure what language he was speaking but she was sure it wasn’t English. That did not seem to stump Professor Dumbledore, who was speaking back just as fluently.  
  
Beside the man were three boys, all dressed in the same manner as the new man. Harriet blinked studying them. The oldest boy looked to be no older than Percy. What were other children doing sitting at the staff table?  
  
“Who’re they you reckon?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Dunno,” Marcus muttered. “Like the look of the dad though. Looks like a really pleasant bloke, lots of laughs.”  
  
“Maybe he’s the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Parvati Patil suggested.  
  
Professor Dumbledore scanned the room with his eyes as he took a sip from his goblet. Harriet remembered how he had not been happy about her leaving Privet Drive with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins. She suddenly worried that he still felt that way but that fear abated at once as his piercing blue-eyes found hers and he gave her a tiny wink.  
  
At that moment there was some commotion around the Great Hall and Harriet turned to see the Hogwarts ghosts were floating in through the walls to join them. Kieran smiled and made room, as he always did, for Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost.  
  
“Ah hello young Miss Potter!” Nearly-Headless Nick said beaming. He seemed even happier to see her this year than usual. Harriet supposed it was because she had stopped Tom Riddle last year whose pet basilisk had petrified Nick.  
  
Harriet was about to respond when Professor Flitwick strode to the front of the room, awkwardly carrying the three-legged stool and the ragged Hogwarts’ Sorting Hat. Harriet gave the hat an affectionate smile. Even though she still disagreed with the Hat, that she would have done well in Slytherin, the Hat had still turned up for her in her time of need last spring and given her the Sword of Gryffindor which she had used to defeat Riddle and the basilisk.  
  
Hagrid came sidling in through a back door to the Great Hall. He sat next to Professor Lupin and gave Harriet and Erica an excited wave. Harriet and Erica both waved back eagerly.  
  
The doors to the Great Hall opened and the first-years came in. Harriet studied the new group intently. She was looking for Jackson but did not see him. She knew there were going to be more incoming refugees who had not been old enough to attend Hogwarts the year before. She was curious if they were going to be sorted separately as they had the previous year or if all new first-years were going to be sorted at the same time? And if they did sort them all at the same time, would it help get rid of the “others” stigma that existed for the new students?  
  
At the Hufflepuff table, two curvy girls Harriet recognized by face only as being refugees, rose and waved energetically to two of the girls in the group of first years. Harriet took that as a sign that the new American students were to be sorted at the same time as regular Hogwarts students.  
  
Professor Dumbledore rose to greet the incoming first-years. The whole hall fell silent as Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat to speak. In a tradition Harriet approved of, no one in the school ever spoke when Professor Dumbledore was talking.  
  
“Welcome! And welcome back!” Professor Dumbledore said, spreading his arms wide in greeting. “Now I know we are all ready for another wonderful Sorting, but once again I must interrupt very briefly to make a necessary statement. This is a most important and serious matter. As you are all aware, following their unscheduled search of the Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts is currently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban.”  
  
Professor Dumbledore paused and Harriet remembered how Dora had said that Professor Dumbledore was not happy about the Dementors guarding the school. “The Dementors are here on Ministry orders, and they are stationed at every entrance to the school grounds. While they are here, I must say in the strongest possible terms that no one is to leave this school without permission. Not even into the grounds. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises, not even invisibility cloaks.”  
  
Harriet and her friends all stole glances at each other.  
  
“It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand excuses or pleading. Therefore, I implore each and every one of you to give the Dementors no reason to harm you. I place my trust in our wonderful staff, our prefects and our new Head Boy and Girl to ensure that no student meets an unfortunate end at the hands of the Dementors.”  
  
A wave of shivers passed over the Great Hall as Professor Dumbledore finished his warning. The one exception was Percy, who beamed and stuck out his chest, showing off his shiny Head Boy badge. Marcus mimed hanging himself as usual.  
  
“That being said, dangerous though they are, the Dementors are here to protect you all from even greater external dangers. I know all of you are aware of the escape of Sirius Black, however, I must even more strongly impress upon you the seriousness of Solomon Kinney. I’m sure you are all equally aware of the attack carried out on the offices of the _Daily Prophet_ yesterday afternoon. And I know for a fact that more than a few of you were in the vicinity and even witnessed the devastation. I must caution all of you to remember that of the people killed in that bombing, one was a mere eleven year old girl who was doing her shopping with her mother, father, and younger brother for her very first trip to Hogwarts.”  
  
There was a wave of gasps and mutterings that swept over the Great Hall at this. Harriet felt sick to her stomach.  
  
“It… pains me more than I can possibly say to think that this young girl should be here, waiting to be sorted at this very moment. Her name was Amanda Kruzel. Her father was named George, her mother Estrella, and her younger brother Stewart. It is an announcement no teacher ever wishes to make to their students. Amanda could have been in any one of your houses, be it Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor. In a few minutes time, she could have been seated right next to you.”  
  
Professor Dumbledore paused and took a deep breath. As he did, there was not a single sound coming from any of the students or staff. Instead, everyone was looking uncomfortably at the seats next to them. Harriet was surprised to note that even Malfoy was looking troubled.  
  
“The man who carried out the attack, Solomon Kinney, wishes to do similar harm on your fellow students who joined us last year. He is willing to kill anyone to achieve his ends. It is for this reason, as much as the danger of the Dementors, that I must impress upon all of you to remain within the castle except for classes and sanctioned extra-curricular activities. Friendship and watching out for one another will see us through this crisis while the Ministry works tirelessly to bring both Kinney and Black to justice.”  
  
Professor Dumbledore finished, looking around the room impressively. “Now, I would like you all to join me in a minute of silence to remember not just Amanda and her family, but all of the others who were killed in that terrible act of destruction yesterday.”  
  
Dumbledore clasped his hands together and hung his head, his eyes closed. There was not a single rustle of a cloak or a clink of a glass or plate. It was perhaps the deepest silence Harriet had ever heard. She felt as though she could hear her own heart beating in her chest as she sat in silent contemplation.  
  
Finally, Professor Dumbledore looked up at them and his face broke into a gentle smile. “Thank you. I’m proud to see how seriously our students take such a tragic event and its significance. However, I am not all doom and gloom. On a much happier note; I would like you all to welcome Prince Faysal al-Abdelaziz al-Tahiri, from the nation of Kuwait. Prince Faysal is here with his sons, Adil, Anass, and Fahim, to see the Sorting of his daughter, Basheera, who has transferred here from our sister school of Beauxbatons.”  
  
“Ohhhh well that explains that,” Lavender hissed in Parvati’s ear.  
  
Prince Faysal laughed and waved merrily at the students. He did seem like a very cheerful man, Harriet had to admit, given he was transferring his daughter from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts in this current climate and was still smiling about it.  
  
“Oooo wonder if they’re all wizards, too?” Parvati asked. “Anass is a hottie…”  
  
“And a _prince_ ,” Lavender added. Both girls broke down into giggles.  
  
“Prince Faysal and his sons have been given special dispensation by the Ministry to join us today, and I’m sure you’ll all join me in giving them a warm Hogwarts welcome.”  
  
Professor Dumbledore started clapping and the rest of the students joined in. Prince Faysal waved them all down and Professor Dumbledore bowed to him.  
  
“Special dispensation? Wonder if that means they’re Muggles?” Kieran wondered aloud.  
  
“Just as good,” Parvati said without hesitation, checking her hair in her spoon.  
  
Harriet rolled her eyes.  
  
Professor Dumbledore sat and gave a nod to Professor Flitwick. Professor Flitwick smiled and placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. Everyone watched with bated breath, waiting for the Sorting Hat to begin its song. Just then, a rip in the hat opened like a mouth and the Hat began to sing.  
  
  
 _“The Hogwarts founders in half were rent  
when of Godric an enemy Salazar did invent  
To reverse the tides of doom-ed fate  
A friend of the snake, the lion must make.  
  
For in these dark times we must pause  
and beneath one banner to unite  
under strong and common cause  
with truth and knowledge must we fight.  
  
If you have the heart to find  
what lies cloud allies from your sight  
You must open up your mind  
and seek unlikely heroes kind.  
  
For you will find consistent aid  
among those whose reputations fade  
The opposite can be said of many  
whose appearance seems uncanny.  
  
If a lesson is taken from my song  
be this: It is hard to right a wrong.  
But in doing so you can persevere  
and bring to all much good cheer.  
  
Yet one more caution I must speak  
in favour of the scared and weak:  
The closer a false friend is kept  
you will be led to actions you'll regret.”_  
  
  
“That was a different one,” Harriet heard Fred say from nearby as awkward applause broke out around the Great Hall. Apparently, Harriet wasn’t the only one who wasn’t sure how to feel about the Sorting Hat’s song.  
  
“Well, the Hat has often been known to give warnings during troubled times,” Nearly-Headless Nick said sagely as he clapped.  
  
“So, what was that warning supposed to be about?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Well, Professor Dumbledore did just remind you all that Sirius Black and Solomon Kinney are on the loose,” Nick replied. “And he did mention that only by working together can we stave off their threat. And sometimes, that means looking for allies in very unlikely places.”  
  
Harriet nodded, digesting that thought as the applause died down. She watched with excitement as Professor Flitwick pulled up the parchment that had the list of student’s names on it and read the first name in his squeaky voice: “Bailey, Conner!”  
  
A small, green eyed, blonde boy stepped forward. As Professor Flitwick wasn’t tall enough, Conner had to put the Hat on himself.  
  
“Ravenclaw!” the Sorting Hat bellowed.  
  
The Ravenclaws burst into applause as Conner beamed and whipped off the Sorting Hat, setting it back precariously on the stool and hurrying off to his new housemates.  
  
After Conner, a tall blonde girl with a heart-shaped face named Robyn Carmichael became a Slytherin. As the previous years, Harriet wondered if she knew the reputation Slytherin house had. She smiled however to see Dora move aside and make room for Robyn.  
  
“Clooney, Britney!”  
  
Another small, square faced girl went forward. One of the returning American girls, Tory Clooney, squealed with delight, watching with crossed fingers. Harriet assumed Britney was her younger sister. “Hufflepuff!”  
  
Tory groaned and pouted, giving a sad wave to Britney who returned it as she made her way to the Hufflepuff table.  
  
A thin boy with brown hair and bright green eyes named Evan Cole became the first Gryffindor. Harriet cheered and pounded her hands on the table with the rest of the house as Evan made his way to them.  
  
A pretty, brown haired girl named Cara Coleman and a small ginger boy named Kyle Conner became Hufflepuffs, followed by a Gryffindor, Darlene Duey. Sean Fenn became another Slytherin, when finally the name Harriet had been waiting for was called.  
  
“Flamel, Emma!”  
  
Emma looked as though she was about to faint. She made her way forward on shaking knees and sat on the stool. She nearly dropped the Sorting Hat as she tried to put it on her head. Harriet held her breath, crossing her fingers.  
  
“Gryffindor!”  
  
Harriet’s jaw fell open. So did Ronnie’s. Harriet stood and whistled loudly as Emma’s face went just as red as the Gryffindor banners. Harriet waved to her and made room for Emma to sit between her and Ronnie. Harriet shot a glance across the Great Hall to Dora who was on her feet with her other Slytherin friends, Sae Miyazaki and Courtney Thomas. Dora gave Harriet a warm smile before sitting back down.  
  
One of the girls who the Hufflepuff refugees had waved at, a pretty blond girl named Audrey Ford became a Slytherin, while another brunette girl named Ana Galland became a Gryffindor. The other girl the two had waved to, Katherine Grand, became another Slytherin while Addie Harkins went to Ravenclaw.  
  
“Rough year for Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws,” Seamus observed.  
  
However, he was proven slightly wrong when the next two, Sammi Hawker and Mason Irvine both went to Hufflepuff.  
  
“Good year for Slytherin though,” Dean said, grudgingly, as Wyatt Jarvis and Melina Juarez became Slytherins.  
  
Jacob Kelvin became another Hufflepuff, while Jack Knight and Jason MacGregor further swelled Slytherin’s ranks, and Andrew Marsh was sent on to the Gryffindor table.  
  
“Dean might have a point about the Slytherins,” Marcus muttered.  
  
The next name called gave Harriet some pause.  
  
“Martinez, Carmina!”  
  
A pretty girl who looked to be Isabella in miniature made her way forward. Sure enough, Isabella rose and started applauding before Carmina had even sat on the stool. “Hufflepuff!” cried the Sorting Hat.  
  
Harriet smiled as Carmina and Isabella met each other half way, embracing in delight. Harriet watched them head back to the Hufflepuff table. She had thought they were going to sit together but was surprised as Carmina sat with another first-year girl, Sammi Hawker, instead. Isabella meanwhile sat next to Jeremy. Harriet supposed he looked healthier than he had the previous spring, but certainly still not his old, cheery self.  
  
A pair of twin boys, Michael and Patrick Minsel, became Ravenclaws, while a Japanese girl, Jurina Mitsuo, became another Slytherin. Harriet watched as Sae eagerly made room for Jurina and they began chatting very quickly in Japanese. At least Harriet assumed they were speaking in Japanese, given the confused looks on the faces of the other students sitting around them.  
  
David Morgan joined Ravenclaw while another Japanese girl, Shiori Ogamino, joined Hufflepuff. She and Jurina gave each other sad little waves as Shiori sat down. Harriet looked around the house tables and felt especially bad for Shiori, as from what she’d seen, none of the other Japanese girls had been sorted into Hufflepuff the previous years.  
  
She pondered for a moment how all the Japanese girls seemed to know each other. It didn’t seem realistic to say they knew each other just because they were Japanese, there had to be some deeper reason. She glanced at Sae and her other friends at the Ravenclaw table, Atsuko and Tomomi. Maybe she would get the chance to ask them about it this year.  
  
“O’Shea, Samantha!”  
  
Harriet’s attention was pulled back to the Sorting.  
  
“Ravenclaw!”  
  
The crowd was dwindling now. There only looked to be six or so more students left. As she scanned them, she spotted a girl who looked vaguely familiar.  
  
“Omigosh,” Rachel gasped. “It can’t be! It _can’t_ be!”  
  
“What?” Ronnie asked, but they were distracted as Mike Rhodes was called forward and promptly sent to join them at the Gryffindor table.  
  
Finally, Harriet’s suspicions were confirmed. “Sinistra, Nanette!”  
  
The little blond girl made her way to the stool. Professor Sinistra applauded and crossed her fingers. Nanette flushed and sat on the stool, putting the Sorting Hat on. “Gryffindor!”  
  
Rachel shrieked with delight and hopped up and down, beside herself with excitement. She managed to catch Nanette’s attention and Nanette looked relieved and made her way over, sitting between Rachel and Tori. Harriet looked back up at the remaining first years and frowned. Where was Nanette’s sister, Rosie?  
  
After Nanette, a girl with very curly black hair named Romilda Vane and a boy with equally black hair named Owen Wallace became Gryffindors. A girl with flaming red hair, Kerry Winsbury, became a Ravenclaw.  
  
“Wonder if she’s a relative of yours?” Harriet asked Ronnie. Ronnie rolled her eyes.  
  
“Not likely,” Emma said in a quiet voice, avoiding everyone’s eye, staring at her plate.  
  
“Why do you say that?” Marcus asked.  
  
“She’s an American,” Emma muttered, fidgeting with her robes. “She said so while we were waiting to be led in.”  
  
“Well, that would explain it,” Marcus said.  
  
“She’s a Muggle-born too,” Emma said matter-of-factly, balancing her fork on the rim of her glass.  
  
Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Does that make a difference?” she asked, trying to keep coolness out of her voice.  
  
“No,” Emma muttered. “Just means she can’t be related to you.”  
  
“Did she tell you she was?” Kieran asked curiously.  
  
“No. Just noticed cuz she’s got braces. Think they’re cool.”  
  
Harriet shot an awkward glance around at the others before she returned her attention to the Sorting. There was only one student left now.  
  
“Wyrven, Spencer!” The last, blonde boy stepped forward.  
  
“Hufflepuff!”  
  
The Hufflepuff table broke into wild applause. It was considered good luck at Hogwarts to get either the first or final first year during the Sorting. As much as she supported her own house, Harriet secretly hoped that Hufflepuff would do well this year. They almost always came in last place in the Hogwarts House Cup competition.  
  
Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet again and the din died down. “Congratulations everyone! Now, we have two final students to be sorted. You may enter!” Professor Dumbledore called.  
  
The door to the Great Hall opened again and a pretty girl wearing a dappled, light green hijab came in, followed closely by Jackson. Harriet watched with bated breath as the two new students moved to the front of the room. As they did, she caught Scott’s eye and he gave her a competitive grin. Ronnie’s jaw had dropped at the sight of Jackson.  
  
“You never said he was such a hottie!” she hissed at Harriet. Around them, Marcus, Dean, Kieran and Seamus all glowered.  
  
There was tense whispering as Professor Flitwick bowed to them both and said “Basheera bint Faysal al-Abdelaziz al-Tahiri!”  
  
Basheera smiled at him and pulled down her hijab, sitting on the stool and putting on the Hat. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths at the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. The Slytherin table alone appeared not that interested in where Basheera was sorted. She supposed as a Muggle-born her chances of joining Slytherin house were slim anyway, but not impossible.  
  
“Gryffindor!” the Hat called after a minute’s deliberation.  
  
Harriet joined in the cheering with the other Gryffindors as Basheera joined them, sitting beside AJ, Parvati and Lavender. Parvati and Lavender leaned in at once, and Harriet could only assume they were asking her questions about her brothers. AJ didn’t pay any attention. Her eyes were fixed on Jackson, wide with hope. He even caught her eye and gave her a sheepish little smile.  
  
“Lee, Jackson,” Professor Flitwick said.  
  
With no hesitation whatsoever, the Sorting Hat declared: “Gryffindor!”  
  
The Gryffindor table exploded. Jackson looked taken aback at the exuberant greeting but quickly made his way to sit with AJ. Harriet was standing with the rest of the house, applauding. Kieran sat before she did and as he did she caught Scott’s eye once more. He was grinning ear to ear in an expression that plainly said: “I told you so.”  
  
Harriet rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. She caught sight of some Hufflepuffs who were looking at the cheering Gryffindors mutinously. Harriet supposed they felt a little cheated out of getting the final Sortee.  
  
Everyone was leaning in to speak to Basheera in particular. Both boys and girls were anxious to talk to Basheera, while mostly girls seemed all that interested in Jackson. That did not seem to help put AJ in the best mood.  
  
The door to the Great Hall opened once more and Hermione and Professor McGonagall came in. Hermione was looking quite pleased about something and moved over as quickly as she could to sit with Harriet and the rest.  
  
“You made Gryffindor! Oh congratulations, Emma! Welcome!” Hermione said beaming at Emma. Emma flushed and looked at her lap.  
  
“Thanks,” she muttered and Harriet wasn’t quite sure, but she could have sworn she saw the corners of Emma’s mouth curl into a smile.  
  
“What was that about?” Ronnie asked Hermione.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to reply but she was cut off as Professor Dumbledore rose again.  
  
“Well, and here we are, at the end of another wonderful Sorting,” he said. “As we’ve already got the dark, dangerous and frightening announcements out of the way, let us move on to the lighter news. I am pleased to welcome not one, not two, not three, but _four_ new teachers to our ranks this year as well as a new member of staff. First, I am sorry to say that following her unpleasant experience last spring during the Heir of Slytherin attacks, Madame Pince has resigned her post as chief librarian.”  
  
If Professor Dumbledore expected any of the students to feel sorry about this, he was much mistaken. Instead, the Great Hall applauded enthusiastically. However, he did not appear very surprised.  
  
“In her place, I am pleased to announce that Mister Giles Robertson will be taking over her role. He is a most accomplished librarian and I am sure you will find him most knowledgeable and helpful when you begin your studies tomorrow.”  
  
There was more enthusiastic applause and Professor Dumbledore smiled. “As for our new teachers, the first is Professor Lupin, who has kindly taken the Defence against the Dark Arts post.”  
  
There was scattered applause. Only Harriet and her friends who had been in the compartment with the Dementor applauded with any enthusiasm. Harriet smiled gladly. In spite of his tired, malnourished look, he was more capable than he seemed, and a proper gentleman. There was also the fact she was happy to be sure of having him as a teacher this year.  
  
“Blimey, look at Snape,” Ronnie said nodding down the staff table.  
  
Harriet looked and felt her eyebrows knot closer together. While it was widely known that Professor Snape wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, Harriet was taken aback at the look on Professor Snape’s face. He was not applauding. Instead he was looking at Professor Lupin with deep hatred etched on every line of his face. Harriet felt a chill. He had never even looked at Gilderoy Lockhart with that much contempt.  
  
Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat once more. “Second, I am sad to announce that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, has retired in order to spend quality time with his two remaining limbs and thoroughly re-evaluate his knowledge of Magical Creatures in light of some recent revelations. Fortunately, our own Rubeus Hagrid has agreed to take up the position.”  
  
Harriet gasped. The ruckus that broke out (at the Gryffindor table in particular) was enormous. Hagrid flushed and buried his face in his handkerchief. Harriet was sure he was crying.  
  
“Well that explains the biting book!” Marcus shouted over the roar.  
  
“Yeah, who else would have thought that one up?” Ronnie asked.  
  
Professor Dumbledore beamed and held up a hand for quiet. “Thirdly, Professor Burbage has also left to take on a bigger role at the Ministry of Magic. In her place, I would like to welcome Professor Spring to our ranks as the new Muggle-Studies professor.”  
  
The cheering that broke out wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as Hagrid’s, but it was more than Professor Lupin’s had been. Harriet craned her neck to look at Professor Spring as she stood. Professor Spring looked quite young, perhaps around the same age as Professor Sinistra. She also had blonde hair, but it was done up in a spiky pixie-cut and she had a very round face and twinkling blue eyes. She looked very good natured as she beamed around at everyone.  
  
“And finally, this is something like the end of an era I must admit, but due to certain new circumstances, Professor Binns shall no longer be carrying on as History of Magic professor.”  
  
This was followed by a few moments of quiet disbelief, before the Great Hall nearly exploded with noise. Students who had been forced to take years of Professor Binns’ droning voice cheered and whooped with joy at this news, Harriet, Ronnie, and Marcus among them. Only Hermione and Scott, the only students in the school who seemed able to resist Binns’ sleep-inducing lessons, looked at the very least indifferent to this news.  
  
Dumbledore raised his hand and the din died down almost immediately. “In his stead, we are proud to introduce Professor Stratton who has agreed to come out of retirement to take on these duties.” Dumbledore turned looking down the table to his left applauding with the other teachers.  
  
A figure Harriet hadn’t noticed before rose to his feet. After he did so, Harriet was quite surprised that she had not noticed him before. Simply put, Professor Stratton was enormous. Not on the same scale as Hagrid, but he looked as though he was over seven feet tall, with wide, powerful shoulders and a barrel-chest that was apparent even through his flowing, black robes. He was black, and his head was completely bald, except for the stark goatee that mostly stood out from the hints of grey in it.  
  
His eyes were bright, and scanned the room imperiously. With a quick glance around, Harriet could see that everyone else, like her, had spotted immediately that this was a professor who was not to be messed with. Harriet looked back up at Professor Stratton, seeing his eyes pan towards the Gryffindor table. They lighted on Harriet, and seemed to hover there for just a moment before passing on, but in that moment, Harriet had seen it, or at least she thought she had.  
  
In the moment they had taken her in, Professor Stratton’s eyes seemed to have flashed bright greenish-silver. It was a feral sight, and it made her shiver. The flashing eyes had looked much like the eyes of the Gurt Dog she had seen in Privet Drive with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins. This intrigued her a little, yet she did not feel afraid of him, merely intimidated at the sheer power that radiated from him. Harriet glanced at Ronnie and knew they were both thinking the same thing. Why wasn’t he the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?  
  
Professor Stratton bowed low as the students finally started applauding. Most everyone around the Great Hall was staring at him in awe and so the applause came delayed and slightly rolling in volume. Harriet watched him sit, and was surprised to see him actually smile at Professor Lupin, who returned the smile and applauded even louder for Professor Stratton as though they were old friends.  
  
Harriet supposed they may well have been friends, but even with what Harriet had seen on the train and knowing Lupin was indeed capable, and that in the Wizarding world very many things were not at all what they appeared, she still felt a far more formidable presence from Professor Stratton than Lupin. Looking along the staff table, Harriet was surprised to see that many of the other professors were giving Stratton slight looks of reverence. But as her eyes moved further down, she was once again surprised by the look on Professor Snape’s face. He didn’t look reverent, or sneering, or angry. No, the look on Professor Snape’s face bordered on abject terror.  
  
Dumbledore turned to face them all and silence slowly fell. “Well, now that all necessary announcements are well and taken care of and we have properly greeted our newest additions to staff, it is now finally time to enjoy our excellent feast! Tuck in!”  
  
And with that, all of the tables in the Great Hall groaned as they were filled with food. Harriet was starving, and grabbed everything within reach, though not nearly as much as Ronnie, who had both a longer reach and an appetite that seemed to rival both of her twin older brothers’, Fred and George, put together.  
  
“Well, the new History of Magic professor certainly looks rather capable doesn’t he?” said Fred as he and George slid closer to the trio, eyeing the new professor somewhat warily, which was a surprising look to see on Fred’s face.  
  
“Yeah, and did you see his eyes? Weird yeah?” asked George in a similar undertone.  
  
Harriet nodded.  
  
“His eyes? What about them?” asked Hermione.  
  
“They flashed, like, glowing, like a dog’s or something,” said Harriet and Fred and George nodded.  
  
“It must have been a trick of the light,” said Hermione casually.  
  
“I don’t know, Hermione,” said Marcus who shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t see it but if Harriet, Fred and George did…”  
  
“Human eyes don’t glow, Marcus, the retina doesn’t reflect enough light like dog and cat eyes do.”  
  
“The _what_ -ina?” asked Ronnie.  
  
“The _retina_ , the back part of your eye. Dog and cat eyes collect light to see at night. Human eyes don’t.”  
  
“I saw them glow,” Emma said as she filled her plate with food. Harriet wasn’t sure how she could have, as she hadn’t looked at anyone the whole time since she sat, but she was glad of support.  
  
Harriet glanced back up at Professor Stratton. “What if he’s not human…?” she asked.  
  
The rest of the group around her blinked with confusion.  
  
“What do you mean? Of course he’s human, look at him,” said Ronnie, perplexed.  
  
“Well, what if he’s…”  
  
“What if he’s what?” Kieran asked. He sounded more curious than doubting.  
  
“Never mind,” Harriet said and started eating. The others looked at her, a little confused, but started eating too.  
  
Harriet was curious, but didn’t want to speak her mind just yet. Her suspicion about the possible connection between the Gurt Dog in Privet Drive with its glowing eyes and the glowing eyes of Professor Stratton was hard to ignore.  
  
Harriet distracted herself by turning her attention elsewhere at the Gryffindor table. Hermione had joined in questioning Basheera.  
  
“So, what year are you, Basheera?” Hermione asked leaning over Parvati.  
  
“I shall be a third year,” Basheera answered.  
  
“Oh cool, you’ll be in our dorm then,” Harriet chimed in. Basheera smiled and nodded.  
  
“Heh, it’ll be getting crowded,” Ronnie said drawing a dirty look from Hermione.  
  
“That’s not the point, Ronnie,” Hermione snapped but Basheera laughed.  
  
“How many will be in our dormitory?” She asked.  
  
“Well, you, me, Lav, Ronnie, Harriet, Hermione, AJ, Tori, and Rachel,” Parvati said.  
  
Basheera laughed even louder. “That is many, isn’t it?” she said smiling. “I am sure we will all be able to fit. The school is magic after all, is it not?”  
  
Hermione smiled. “That’s very true,” she said.  
  
Harriet was pleased to see that Basheera seemed to take much of her sense of humour from her father. She didn’t frown once from what Harriet saw, and she seemed very eager to answer questions about herself and had many of her own. Harriet was pleasantly surprised to see that she and Ginny appeared to be hitting it off very well.  
  
The same could not quite be said for Jackson. He seemed to be trying to dodge most questions, while AJ seemed to be doing her part to answer them for him. Harriet sighed. She wanted Jackson to open up a little, but then she reminded herself that he was rumoured to have killed someone, and so there were many things he would probably rather keep to himself. Harriet was glad to see that AJ had befriended Jackson and was doing her best to stick up for him.  
  
When the feast finished, Professor Dumbledore rose once more to tell them all it was time for bed. Harriet and her friends did not move to the doors, however. Instead, they made straight for the staff table to talk to Hagrid.  
  
“Congratulations!” Hermione squealed with delight.  
  
“All down ter you lot,” Hagrid said, dabbing his eyes with his handkerchief once more. “Can’ believe it… I mean, me a teacher? Dumbledore came straight down ter me hut after Professor Kettleburn called it quits. Never thought nothin’ like this could ever happen ter me.”  
  
“Alright you all, off to bed with you, you may speak to Professor Hagrid during your lessons tomorrow,” Professor McGonagall said shooing them off. However, in spite of her stern tone, Harriet couldn’t help but notice a warm twinkle in her eye and a smile in the corners of her mouth.  
  
They made their way up with the rest of the students to Gryffindor tower. After so many eventful days in a row Harriet was starting to feel very tired. Hermione continued to bombard Basheera with questions but as interested as Harriet was, she just couldn’t focus. She didn’t even hear Percy when he announced what the new password was to gain entrance to the tower. This did not concern her, as she knew she would hear it again tomorrow.  
  
While most students stayed up in the common room to talk, Harriet made straight for her dormitory. Sure enough, as she stepped inside, the room had expanded yet again to make room for another bed. Her trunk was waiting for her and she quickly changed into her pyjamas. She closed the curtains, turned off her oil lamp, and climbed under the covers.  
  
The last fleeting thought to go through Harriet’s mind as she closed her eyes was _I’m home_. She took yawned once more, clutched her comforter tighter, and fell asleep.  


	9. Pernicious Prophecies

“It is a curious twist that the coming events of our lives may at once be unavoidable, while at the same time are entirely unknowable.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
Harriet should have known that the start to her third year as a Hogwarts student would not go as smoothly as she hoped. The trouble began at around two in the morning, when a cacophony of hissing, spitting, shouting, and squeaking roused the entire dormitory. The source of the commotion was soon revealed to be Crookshanks who had made a renewed attack on Scabbers while everyone slept.  
  
In the end, a disgruntled Hermione was forced to put Crookshanks outside the dormitory for the rest of the night. Even then, sleep was not to be had. Crookshanks yowled outside the door for a while, crying to be let back in until Ginny took pity on them all and took Crookshanks.  
  
They had only slept perhaps another hour when the next major disturbance occurred. A series of ear-splitting bangs shook the whole of Gryffindor tower. The noises then triggered an apparent relapse in some of the American students’ night-terror attacks, including Rachel.  
  
And so Harriet found herself spending her very first morning helping AJ and Tori calm Rachel down. They finally could stop when Rachel woke up and realized what had happened. Her face went red with shame and she rolled over, hugging her pillow tight. The other girls all looked at each other awkwardly and decided to leave Rachel alone and followed the sounds of voices down the stairs to the common room.  
  
The entirety of the scene was a bit staggering. Confused and disgruntled Gryffindors were crowded around the foot of the boys’ staircase. Kieran and Marcus were sitting on the bottom step and Kieran was attempting to stop Marcus’ eyebrow from bleeding. Marcus meanwhile kept asking if Jackson was okay. Nearby, Dean and Seamus were looking venomous and glaring at Jackson who was standing in a corner staring at the floor. Harriet couldn’t tell if the look on his face was shame or anger.  
  
It did not take much detective work to figure out what had happened. Percy was bellowing at Jackson at the top of his voice. However, the reason for Percy yelling was not just anger. He also had to yell to be heard over AJ who was yelling at Percy in turn for yelling at Jackson.  
  
From what Harriet was hearing, Jackson had experienced a night-terror of his own. However, instead of just screaming, it seemed Jackson had grabbed his wand and fired off a spell into the middle of the room which bounced around a few times before exploding. One of the objects it bounced off of was Marcus’ head.  
  
“SO RECKLESS! WHO KEEPS THEIR WAND UNDER THEIR PILLOW THESE DAYS?!”  
  
“Where’s Neville?” Hermione asked looking around. Harriet glanced around and realized she was right; Neville was nowhere to be seen.  
  
“COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE!”  
  
“Apparently he’s still trapped in his bed,” Parvati said over Percy’s yells, sounding slightly amused. “His bed collapsed on top of him when the spell exploded. I guess a couple fourth year boys are trying to free him—”  
  
“HE COULDN’T HELP IT! NONE OF THEM CAN WHEN IT HAPPENS!”  
  
The situation was only diffused by the arrival of Professor McGonagall. “What on earth happened here? Weasley, report!” Professor McGonagall snapped.  
  
Percy scowled. “It was Lee, Professor! He blew up the third-year boys’ dormitory, nearly took out Van De Lakk’s eye and Longbottom’s still trapped in his bed!”  
  
Professor McGonagall’s beady-eyes swept back and forth between Percy and Jackson. “What happened, Lee?”  
  
Jackson hung his head, looking even more ashamed of himself. Somehow, Harriet felt he wasn’t ashamed about being in trouble. He seemed more like he was ashamed it had happened at all. Percy scowled at Professor McGonagall behind her back, clearly upset that his word was not being accepted outright.  
  
“I… had a… nightmare or something and I guess I just… sorry…” he mumbled.  
  
Professor McGonagall looked at him for a moment. As always, Harriet wasn’t sure whether Professor McGonagall was going to be understanding, or begin shouting at him. She had the uncanny ability to make it look as though anyone she turned her gaze upon was in trouble.  
  
“I see. Well, Lee, maybe in the future you can sleep with your wand a bit further away from your bed to prevent this from happening again?”  
  
“Y-yes, Professor,” Jackson muttered, not meeting her eyes.  
  
“Now then, you boys get back upstairs to assist Longbottom and clean up the mess. Van De Lakk, let’s get you to the hospital wing to get that cut cleaned and closed.”  
  
“Yes, Professor,” Marcus said and got to his feet.  
  
Professor McGonagall turned and led Marcus from the room while Dean and Seamus looked even angrier now that they had to help clean up a mess they had not created. Percy swooped about, shooing everyone back to their dormitories.  
  
“Nothing to see, move along now! You can all still get another couple hours of sleep before classes begin.”  
  
“Big puffed-up grouse,” AJ grumbled as she and the rest of the girls made their way up the stairs. “Who does he think he is? Yelling at Jackson like that. So he had an attack? He should be used to that by now. Now that he’s all mister big-tough Head Boy he’s gotten even worse.”  
  
AJ didn’t bother keeping her thoughts to herself despite Ronnie’s presence, although Harriet was sure that AJ was too mad to even realize Ronnie was there. However, Ronnie seemed to share AJ’s sentiments.  
  
“You’re telling me?” Ronnie growled. “I had to put up with him _all summer_.”  
  
As they re-entered their dormitory, Harriet saw that Rachel had drawn her bed curtains shut. Harriet was sure Rachel was sulking. She grimaced as she looked at the closed curtains. She wanted to comfort Rachel again, but supposed it would only make things worse to keep bringing it up. However, Lavender broke Harriet’s attention off Rachel.  
  
“Wait… where’s Basheera?”  
  
Harriet looked around and realized she was right; Basheera was nowhere to be seen. By the looks of it, she had left sometime before the mayhem started. She had even made her bed.  
  
“You know, she wasn’t in here when…” Tori started to say but broke off, glancing at Rachel’s bed, “when the explosion happened.”  
  
“She’s probably praying,” Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone as she climbed back into bed.  
  
“Prayin’?” AJ asked. “Why’s she gotta go somewheres else for that?”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “She’s Muslim. It’s part of their faith. They pray five times a day, and they have a ritual they go through before and during each prayer.”  
  
“Ohhhhh,” AJ said thoughtfully. “Back home we just went once ev’ry Sunday.”  
  
“How come you don’t anymore?” Lavender asked.  
  
AJ gave her a quizzical look. “Ya’ll see many churches ‘round here?”  
  
“Oh, yeah, good point,” Lavender said rubbing her chin.  
  
“B’sides, it was mostly Dad who wanted us tah go,” AJ went on, her voice going a bit quieter. “’Spect our preacher woulda called in an exercism if he’da known what Mom and the rest of us kids were.”  
  
“Is it that bad?” Parvati asked.  
  
AJ shrugged. “Not all places. Like two uh the girls who wound up in Hufflepuff, Jenny Thomas and Haley Burns, their church was raisin’ them up to be healers. They didn’t really _know_ it came from magic, but they’da probably saw it as a divine gift anyway. Church is kinda… weird… back home.”  
  
Harriet pondered this. No one spoke for a while after that. Harriet did not fall asleep again. Instead she simply lay on her back until finally it was time to head down to breakfast. However, even this was not the end of their awkward moments. They returned to the common room and found Jackson in trouble with Percy once again.  
  
“You are completely out of uniform, Lee!”  
  
“Oh what now?!” AJ growled as they left the stairs. Sure enough, Jackson was wearing entirely normal clothes. Well, almost normal. Mostly, he looked like he had just walked out of—  
  
“Oy, get a load of the Milkybar kid,” Dean Thomas taunted from the fireplace where he had been sitting and talking with Seamus. By his tone, the comment was clearly meant to wound, however, it did not have quite the effect he had hoped for.  
  
“Milky-what now?” Jackson asked as he inspected his jeans, white shirt, leather vest and cowboy boots.  
  
Jackson, being American, clearly had no idea who the Milkybar Kid was, and neither did most of the other American students. Then there were the majority of the Gryffindor students who came from at least Half-Blood families, and so did not grow up with exposure to Muggle products and advertising.  
  
Harriet, having grown up around Dudley, knew exactly what Milkybars were and who the Milkybar kid was, but she didn’t find the comparison funny at all. And so all Dean got out of the taunt was a few titters here and there and a swat up the back of the head from the fifth year (now sixth year) girl Colin Creevey had taken a fancy too the previous year. Dean turned to glare and protest but after seeing how much taller than him she was, he balked and simply stared at the floor. Colin smirked at him from nearby.  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Percy interjected, drawing Harriet’s attention back to the scene. “You are out of uniform, Lee. Get back upstairs and change at once.”  
  
“But I thought they said we only had to wear it for classes?” Jackson replied. “Aren’t we just going to breakfast now?”  
  
“Yes, and thereafter you go straight to your classes,” Percy snapped and pointed. “Now change at once or it’s a detention!”  
  
“You’re seriously going to give a detention to the new kid just because he misinterpreted something?” came Marcus’ surly voice from the portrait hole.  
  
The room went quiet. Everyone remembered all too well the constant battles between Percy and Marcus the previous year. Apparently, that trend was going to continue given the look of indignation on Marcus’ face as he stomped over. He still had a small white bandage covering half his right eyebrow.  
  
“Come on Perce, you’ve made it to Head Boy, do you really need to milk your power around here even more?” Marcus demanded crossing his arms.  
  
“Th-that’s-that’s completely out of order, Van De Lakk!” Percy stammered, clearly caught off guard by that particular attack.  
  
“Besides, if anyone here should be mad at him it’s probably me—well—and Neville,” Marcus said giving a nod in Neville’s direction “but neither of us blame him. And then after you spent all last year getting in the way of people from other houses mingling all the while you were sneaking around—”  
  
“That’s detention!” Percy said, cutting Marcus off with an air of finality. “And a report to Professor McGonagall recommending taking twenty points from Gryffindor!”  
  
Marcus glowered, as did a great many of the other students. Jackson was giving Marcus a look that was at once apologetic, and grateful. Harriet glanced around the room. Students were starting to move awkwardly toward the portrait hole. Others were giving Percy dirty looks as he turned and stormed off through the portrait hole.  
  
Ronnie put a comforting hand on Marcus’ shoulder and at first he looked inclined to shrug it off, but he didn’t.  
  
“Let’s just go down to breakfast,” Hermione suggested, trying to sound casual.  
  
“You lot go, I’m gonna check on Jackson,” Marcus said and stomped off up the stairs to the boys dormitory.  
  
Ronnie grimaced but Harriet hooked an arm in hers and together, she, Hermione, Ronnie and Kieran made their way down to breakfast. No one spoke the whole way. As they entered the Great Hall the first thing they saw was Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró doing ridiculous impressions of fainting while the Slytherins surrounding them all burst out laughing.  
  
“Just ignore them,” Hermione said in a lofty tone as they made their way to the Gryffindor Table.  
  
“Beware Potter, beware!” Pixie shouted after her.  
  
“The Dementors are coming! Coming for youuuuuuuu!” Pansy shrieked.  
  
“Ignore them ignore them ignore them,” Hermione continued to hiss. As they reached the Gryffindor table Harriet saw Basheera was already there, sitting with Scott and Dora who had come over from their tables. Nearby Harriet saw Fred and George who were huddled in deep conversation with Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Erica Quoy.  
  
They steered towards Basheera, Scott and Dora who smiled in greeting.  
  
“Good morning,” Basheera said as they sat down around her.  
  
“Morning,” Kieran said cheerfully.  
  
“Well you missed an interesting morning,” Ronnie said rolling her eyes.  
  
Dora glanced at the group of whispering fifth years. “So we heard…”  
  
“What were they teasing you about?” Basheera asked Harriet, nodding towards the Slytherin table.  
  
Harriet blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing, just those Dementor things searched the train yesterday and I sort of… well…”  
  
“Oh, that is not very nice…” Basheera said looking genuinely sympathetic.  
  
“No, it’s not,” Angelina growled, having overheard them. “Those two little cows weren’t all that brave about the search either, they came running into our compartment,” she went on nodding towards the other fifth-years.  
  
“That little runt Malfoy was with them too,” George added.  
  
“Yeah, just about wet himself,” Fred agreed.  
  
“Didn’t feel too great myself,” George said. “Ruddy terrible, those Dementors.”  
  
“They sort of freeze you from the inside out, don’t they?” said Fred.  
  
“You know, you all keep telling me about how great the Hogwarts Express is and how I’m missing out on all the fun but I don’t know, this isn’t really helping your case in my mind,” Erica said, the corners of her mouth twitching as the other fifth years rolled their eyes.  
  
“Still, we’ll wipe those smiles off their faces come the first Quidditch match,” Fred said, grinning hungrily.  
  
Harriet smiled. The first match of every year was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and Harriet had never lost to the Slytherins yet.  
  
“So, were you really praying?” Ronnie asked bluntly, changing the subject.  
  
Basheera seemed taken aback but not offended. Hermione closed her eyes and Dora groaned loudly.  
  
“I… I was… yes…” Basheera said recovering.  
  
“Sorry just kinda new to me, never heard of that before so—”  
  
“Oh, it is fine,” Basheera said, smiling again. “Yes, I know it is not common in our world for people to hold on to their old beliefs. But I do not see them as conflicting.”  
  
Harriet nodded but did not get time to digest this information as more outbursts from the Slytherin table drew everyone’s attention.  
  
“Good lord, Van de Lakk, what the devil happened to you? So hope you don’t get a scar from that! I don’t think Hogwarts is big enough for two puffed-up, scar-headed Gryffindors, do you?” Draco Malfoy asked looking around at his surrounding gang who all broke out laughing.  
  
Harriet looked at the door. Marcus, Jackson, AJ, Rachel and Tori had arrived. Marcus glared and his hands curled into fists. Jackson actually seemed to reach for his wand but stopped when another voice shouted from the Gryffindor table.  
  
It was Fred. “Puffed up?” he called getting to his feet so Malfoy could see him. “Seems to me someone who stopped You-Know-Who and has won every Quidditch match she’s played in has earned the right to think a little highly of themselves. What about you then? Last I checked you were a runty little ferret whose only claim to fame is your ancestors’ money, just like your dad, and his dad, and so on—”  
  
“ENOUGH!” shouted Professor McGonagall who was on her feet, glaring back and forth between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. “I will not have the Great Hall become the site of another free-for-all! Sit down and eat your food, everyone!”  
  
The Great Hall suddenly went very quiet. Marcus and the rest awkwardly made their way to the Gryffindor table and sat. As the sound of clinking plates and soft muttering resumed Dora leaned over towards Fred.  
  
“Nice one… wish I’d thought of that,” she said under her breath.  
  
Fred gave her a smile then winked at Harriet. “Well someone had to say it for everyone to hear, some of us are just quicker than others.”  
  
Dora rolled her eyes.  
  
“How’s your eyebrow?” Ronnie asked Marcus.  
  
“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” Marcus said. “Might be a mark, but there was one there anyway. No harm done. Just might be a bit bigger now is all.”  
  
“Well I for one,” said a new voice Harriet didn’t recognize right away, “think he was very brave standing up to the _Head Boy_ like that.”  
  
Harriet turned to see it was Nanette Sinistra who had just walked up to the table with her fellow first-year girls. Emma was at the back of the group, but gave a rare smile as she saw Dora and quickly moved to sit with her sister and the two began chatting rapidly in French. Harriet assumed Dora was asking Emma about her first night.  
  
“Oh, thank’s Nanette,” Marcus said, blushing a little as Nanette beamed down at him.  
  
“You’re welcome. I just think you did the House proud standing up against injustice like that.”  
  
Marcus’s face went even redder. Harriet noted Ronnie’s was getting redder as well, but her expression was much different than Marcus’. Nanette simply smiled and moved on with her other new friends to sit further down the table.  
  
George cleared his throat and leaned over Fred, holding out a stack of parchment to them. “Oh, here you lot are, your new time-tables.”  
  
Marcus took them and passed them around.  
  
“Oh good, we’ll have some new subjects today,” Hermione said excitedly. “Ooh Arithmancy first thing, wonderful.”  
  
“What? No it isn’t. We have Divination first, don’t we?” Ronnie asked studying her timetable carefully.  
  
“Oh, y-you’re right, silly me,” Hermione said and quickly stuffed her timetable into her bag.  
  
Ronnie raised an eyebrow in bemusement while Scott and Dora both gave Hermione very shrewd looks. Harriet felt as confused as Ronnie looked but diverted her attention to Hagrid who had just entered the Great Hall and made his way to the staff table, passing them on the way.  
  
“All righ’ you lot?” He asked beaming as he paused. “Yer gonna be in mah first ever lesson this afternoon, right after lunch! Not half excited I don’t mind tellin’ yeh, had something pretty good planned but now got summut even better for you all. Right Lee?” Hagrid asked, giving Jackson a knowing wink.  
  
Jackson flushed and swallowed but nodded.  
  
Hagrid chuckled. “Hope it goes alright… me a teacher… can you believe it?” Hagrid turned and continued on to the staff table.  
  
Everyone turned to look at Jackson, but he was clearly ignoring them all.  
  
“I take it you’re not going to fill us in on what the “better” plan is?” Dora asked.  
  
“Nope,” Jackson replied curtly taking a bite of eggs.  
  
AJ grinned to herself. Harriet fished around for something else to ask. “So, um, how do you like Hogwarts so far?”  
  
“Oh, it’s fine,” Jackson said. “You know, outside the obvious.”  
  
He nodded towards Percy who was currently at the Ravenclaw table with his girlfriend, Penelope.  
  
“Try living with him,” Ronnie grumbled.  
  
Jackson laughed. “Touché!”  
  
Harriet smiled. She felt good seeing him laugh and smile, it was good to know he could after all he’d been through.  
  
“So, is it true,” Dora asked. “You don’t remember the attack at all?”  
  
Jackson’s smile faltered and AJ gave Dora a burning look.  
  
“Come on, can’t ya’ll just leave him alone about that?” AJ asked but Jackson shrugged.  
  
“I… I remember bits and pieces of it… I mean… I remember the Secessionists taking over the town, I remember the Unionists marching in, but after that, nothing.”  
  
“Nothing?” Rachel asked.  
  
Jackson shook his head. “Nothing… not till I sort of woke up in the middle of nowhere and that’s when Epeius’ herd found me.”  
  
“You know, I’m curious about that. Of all the names you could have given him, what made you pick Epeius?” Scott asked.  
  
Jackson blinked at him as though he didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Well it’s just such a formal, different name, isn’t it?”  
  
Jackson shrugged. “No idea, I didn’t name him.”  
  
“Then who did?” Hermione asked.  
  
Jackson looked down at the table and started shovelling bacon on to his plate. “You’d have to ask him.”  
  
Harriet and her friends all looked at each other. Confusion was written over everyone’s face. Ronnie looked at Jackson as though she wanted to press the subject but the dangerous look on AJ’s face seemed to quell her interest.  
  
“So Rachel,” Hermione asked, changing the subject. “I know it’s a touchy subject too, but have you heard from your brothers at all this summer?”  
  
To their surprise, Rachel actually smiled. “Oh yeah, I just got letters from both of them.”  
  
Harriet noted how Rachel said “both” instead of “all.” The youngest of Rachel’s brothers, Sean, was fighting for the Secessionists, and Rachel had only ever mentioned him once the previous year when she had come to Harriet for help in pre-emptively fighting off a panic attack in the middle of the night.  
  
“How are they?” Kieran asked.  
  
“Aaron’s okay. It sounds like the war’s starting to wear on him. His commanding officer was killed over the summer so he’s been commanding his company ever since even though he’s only a lieutenant. He didn’t seem like himself...” Rachel trailed off. “Crazy to think about, like, my brother, in command of a whole company, he’s only twenty. He said they might promote him soon to captain even.”  
  
Marcus whistled. Rachel gave another little smile.  
  
“Blaine’s okay too. He’s a non-combatant though, like I think he’s a mail-clerk. He keeps talking about feeling useless, but I don’t know… I feel worried enough with one brother in harm’s way, let alone two…”  
  
An awkward silence followed. Harriet didn’t know what to say and focused on her breakfast. However, she did happen to catch a glimpse of Jackson. His face was taught, his hands clenched on his fork and knife and his eyes were boring into Rachel though she didn’t notice, having turned to talk to Erica. It wasn’t a threatening look; it didn’t even look like his eyes were in focus.  
  
“Well better eat up, those of us heading to Divination got a long way to go, it’s all the way at the top of North Tower,” Ronnie said, distracting Harriet.  
  
“Good luck, let us know how it goes,” Kieran said, smiling.  
  
Of her main group of friends, only Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione had signed up for Divination, and so it was only those three who began making their way across the castle towards North Tower. Fortunately they were joined by Rachel and Tori who had also signed up for Divination. As Rachel and Tori both knew the way to North Tower, they made good time. However, it still was quite the trek, up winding staircases and down long corridors that Harriet had never taken before.  
  
“You two sure there isn’t a shortcut?” Harriet asked, breathing heavily.  
  
“Yes, we’re sure,” Tori said smiling back at her.  
  
“We told you, we know the way to the tower by heart—” Rachel started to say but broke off and suddenly curtsied at a portrait and began speaking in a refined, fluttery voice. “Oh, good morning to you, Sir Cadogan! How goes the defence of the realm?”  
  
Harriet blinked and looked at the portrait Rachel had curtsied to. In the portrait was a squat, diminutive knight in a full suit of armour glaring at a dapple-grey pony that was grazing lazily. There were bits of grass and sod stuck to the knight’s armour in odd places, and Harriet was sure he had just fallen off the horse. He turned at the sound of Rachel’s voice and jumped in surprise but his face broke into a wide grin and he bowed.  
  
“Good morning to you my dear gentle ladies! And how are you Lady Kane and Lady Hoffman, and who might I enquire are your charming friends?”  
  
Rachel barely held back a giggle as she gestured to Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione. “This, my brave knight, is Lady Potter, Lady Weasley, and Lady Granger.”  
  
“Weasley!” Sir Cadogan gasped and actually got down on one knee as he bowed to Ronnie. “A proud family you come from my dear! A proud family indeed! My most dearest friend is from your noble house!”  
  
“Oh, i-is he?” Ronnie asked, taken aback.  
  
“Yes indeed, my dear young lady, and I dare say you do your noble line proudly,” Sir Cadogan said. “The loveliness of your flaming red hair speaks openly of the fire in your soul.”  
  
Ronnie’s face went red as her hair. Sir Cadogan smiled around at them all. “Now my dear ladies, how may I be of service to you?”  
  
“Well it is ever so good we have run into you, dear knight,” Rachel said, still in her fluttery voice. “We are on our way to the North Tower—”  
  
“Say no more my dear young maiden! I shall escort you forthwith! Onwards!” Sir Cadogan shouted and drew his sword, which was too long for him and nearly toppled him over. He then tried and failed to mount his pony and instead cried out: “On foot then my gentle ladies! ON! ON!”  
  
And before anyone could say anything more he turned and ran off into the neighbouring portrait.  
  
Harriet blinked. “What just—?”  
  
“Come on!” Rachel said excitedly and started running off after Sir Cadogan.  
  
Tori smiled and ran off too. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all looked at each other before they started running too.  
  
“Is it just me or did that bloke just call me pretty?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Yeah, that’s how I interpreted it,” Rachel replied.  
  
Ronnie beamed and they kept going. Harriet looked around at the other girls as they ran. Rachel didn’t look the least bit tired as she led the group. Ronnie looked only slightly more winded than Rachel did, but not by much. Tori looked as winded as Harriet felt, but to Harriet’s surprise, despite carrying twice as many books Hermione also seemed to be handling the run well. Harriet again remembered noticing how Hermione had seemed so much more fit after this past summer and vowed to remember to ask her about it.  
  
Finally, they stopped halfway up a long spiral staircase leading to the top of what they knew to be North Tower. They stopped here as apparently there were no further portraits for Sir Cadogan to lead them through. They thanked him, all doing their best to act ladylike and grateful before Sir Cadogan bowed and clanked back off to his portrait.  
  
“You know? Didn’t you two already know the way?” Ronnie asked Tori and Rachel. “Was any of that necessary?”  
  
“Not really, but it was fun,” Rachel replied, giggling.  
  
“You kinda have to act like that around Sir Cadogan anyway,” Tori said, catching her breath as they continued up the stairs. “He’s sort of really into that whole being a knight thing.”  
  
They finally reached the top landing. There was a good portion of the class there already. By the looks of it, most of Gryffindor house’s third years had signed up for it. Harriet remembered Scott teasing her over the summer, telling her most people took Divination because it was “easy.” Harriet didn’t know, she had only picked it because Ronnie had picked it.  
  
However, it became very clear very quickly that not all picked it because it was easy. Parvati and Lavender looked beside themselves with excitement for the class to start.  
  
“Just imagine all the things we’re going to learn!”  
  
“Omigosh, the future, we’re going to learn how to see the future!”  
  
“I know!”  
  
Dean, Seamus and Neville were looking at Parvati and Lavender with dumbstruck faces.  
  
“So… where’s the classroom?” Hermione asked, looking around.  
  
Rachel gave a superior smirk, the same kind Ronnie so often gave, and pointed at the ceiling. Harriet, Hermione and Ronnie all looked up. There was a trap-door in the ceiling with a small brass plaque that read: Sybill Trelawney, Divination Teacher.  
  
“So… how do we get in?” Seamus asked.  
  
The moment he asked, the trap-door swung open and a thin, silver ladder lowered to the floor.  
  
“After you,” Dean said prodding Seamus in the back.  
  
Seamus rolled his eyes but climbed the ladder. Everyone followed one-by-one until finally Harriet made it up into the room. It was by far the strangest classroom she had ever been in; in fact, it didn’t look like a classroom at all. It looked like someone had tried to set up a tea-shop inside their attic. It was filled with almost two dozen small, circular tables crammed in between plump, chintz armchairs and poufs. The curtains were closed over the windows and the lamps hanging from the ceiling were draped in red scarves which gave the room a reddish hue.  
  
Furthermore, it was quite warm, sweat already starting to form on Neville’s forehead as the class began to sit down. There was a blazing fire going in the fireplace that was heating a large copper kettle, the steam from which smelled perfumed. There was a cupboard full of pink and blue teacups and shelves ran all along the circular walls were full of odd items such as feathers, candles, ragged old playing card packs, dozens of silvery crystal balls and countless teapots.  
  
“Welcome,” a soft, misty voice said, causing Harriet to jump as she went to sit down in one of the arm chairs.  
  
The class turned as one to see Professor Trelawney step into the middle of the room, finally illuminated by the light of the fire and the hanging, shrouded lamps. She was very thin, wearing long, green robes and a spangled shawl. She wore so many necklaces Harriet was surprised she could support the weight, and she had large glasses which made her eyes appear twice their natural size.  
  
“How nice to see you all in the physical world at last,” Professor Trelawney said.  
  
Harriet was still too taken aback to respond. She had never seen this woman before, not even at the meeting last spring when Professor McGonagall had called all the staff to discuss the revelation that Slytherin’s Monster was a basilisk. This puzzled Harriet. If Professor Trelawney was the Divination teacher, shouldn’t she have seen the attacks coming and known what the monster was already and who the attacker was?  
  
“Welcome to Divination,” Professor Trelawney continued, having taken a seat of her own in the largest, winged armchair next to the fire. “My name is Professor Trelawney. I doubt many, if any, of you have seen me before. It is very rare that I descend into the raucousness of the main school, the chaotic nature clouds my inner-eye, you see?”  
  
Harriet and Ronnie looked at each other. Hermione was looking at Professor Trelawney with bemusement.  
  
“Now, perhaps it would be best to give you all a short introduction into the nature of this course. Many people take this class believing it to be ‘easy.’ This could not be farther from the truth. Indeed, quite the opposite, divination is by far the most difficult branch of all the magical arts.”  
  
Harriet swallowed. Hermione was now chewing her lip in thought as she watched Professor Trelawney.  
  
“I would also point out, that if you do not possess the natural Sight, the essence and aura necessary to be a Seer, there is very little I can teach you. This is not a class one can learn by simply burying their nose in a book.”  
  
At this, the entire class all swivelled in their seats to look at Hermione. Hermione was now wide-eyed, looking as though Professor Trelawney had just slapped her.  
  
“You dear?” Professor Trelawney said pointing at Neville who squeaked in shock and nearly fell off his pouf. “How is your grandmother?”  
  
“Uh, she’s fine, I think,” Neville replied. “Do you know her?”  
  
“No, but I wouldn’t be so sure that she is so well, my dear. You should send her a letter as soon as you can,” Professor Trelawney said. Neville whimpered.  
  
“We will simply be working on the basics this year. This is, what one might call, the make-or-break, year, where we separate the gifted from the mundane. Today we will begin with reading tea-leaves, but then will move on to palmistry—oh and dear?” Professor Trelawney shot at Parvati, “beware those with sandy-hair.”  
  
Parvati shot a nervous look at Seamus Finnigan and edged away from him slightly. Seamus glowered.  
  
“After palmistry, we shall work on fire omens before proceeding to crystal balls. That may be delayed however as there will be a rash of flu in February which will cause me to lose my voice.”  
  
“But there’s always a rash of flu right after the holidays,” Hermione hissed just loud enough for Harriet and Ronnie to hear her.  
  
Harriet blinked and realized that was true. She turned her attention back to Professor Trelawney.  
  
“And finally, around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever.”  
  
The class went dead silent at this announcement. Professor Trelawney did not seem to notice as she turned on Lavender who flinched.  
  
“I wonder dear, could you pass me that largest silver teapot just there over your head?”  
  
Lavender let out a sigh of relief before turning to fetch the teapot off the shelf on the wall behind her.  
  
“Thank you dear. Oh, and that thing you’re dreading? It will happen on Friday the 15th of October.”  
  
Lavender whimpered.  
  
“Now, if you could all please pair up and each take a teacup from the shelf, come to me and I will fill them from my teapot. Sit at your tables and drink the tea until only the dregs remain. Once the tea has been drunk, swill the dregs around three times anti-clockwise with the left hand, place upside down on the saucer and allow the rest of the tea to drain from the cup and the dregs. Once that is completed, turn your teacup right-way up again, and hand it to your partner to interpret. The guide to interpreting the patterns can be found on pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future_. I shall move amongst you assisting as needed.”  
  
The class rose but she quickly caught Neville by the arm. “Oh, my dear, after you’ve broken your first cup, would you please be sure to select another blue-patterned one? I’m rather attached to the pink.”  
  
Professor Trelawney's prediction about Neville’s first tea-cup came true within a minute. She reminded him to pick a blue one as finally Harriet and Ronnie made it back to their seats and sat. Hermione, meanwhile, went to join Neville. The two girls drank the piping hot tea as fast as they could, eager to start. They followed the rest of Professor Trelawney’s instructions and finally Harriet had a go at interpreting Ronnie’s tea leaves.  
  
“Well… first thing I’m seeing is—”  
  
“You mean besides loads of soggy brown stuff?” Dean whispered. Harriet didn’t really want to, having never quite got on with Dean, but she sniggered nonetheless.  
  
“Broaden your minds, my dears! Allow your eyes to see past the mundane and the physical!”  
  
Harriet gave her head a shake. The heat and the heavy perfume had made her drowsy.  
  
“Okay, let’s see… you’ve got a sort of… wonky… cross… I think… ummmmm,” she consulted the textbook. “Which means ‘trials and suffering,’ well that’s no fun.”  
  
“Yeah not really,” Ronnie muttered. “Anything else?”  
  
“Well… this one looks kind of like the sun,” Harriet said. “Which means… ‘great happiness,’ so… I guess you’re going to suffer but in the end you’ll be very happy… unless it means you’re going to be happy but then suffer… or… be happy _and_ suffer…”  
  
“Think your inner-eye needs to look in Miss Momori’s eye-glass maker too,” Ronnie teased and Harriet giggled.  
  
“Okay, do mine now!” Harriet said, excitedly.  
  
“Okay,” Ronnie said studying closely. “Well… I see a blob that, to me anyway, looks like a bowler hat. Maybe you’ll work for the Ministry or something… I don’t know, there’s no bowler hat in the book.”  
  
Ronnie twisted the cup. “But here it looks like an acorn…”  
  
“Great, I’m a squirrel,” Harriet muttered making Ronnie snort.  
  
“Shut up, shut up,” Ronnie hissed glancing at Professor Trelawney. “No, the book has an acorn, it means ‘a windfall, unexpected gold,’ well that’s handy.”  
  
“Oooo maybe it’ll be enough for a Firebolt?” Harriet grinned.  
  
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “And now there’s this thing here… it sort of looks like an animal… it… it kind of looks like a dog—”  
  
“Let me see that cup my dear,” Professor Trelawney asked.  
  
Harriet and Ronnie both jumped realizing Professor Trelawney was standing over them, holding out a hand to Ronnie. The whole class went very quiet and watched on with interest as Professor Trelawney inspected Harriet’s cup.  
  
“The falcon… you have a deadly enemy it seems, my dear.”  
  
“Well everyone knows that,” Hermione hissed. Professor Trelawney looked at Hermione, blinking slowly.  
  
“Well, they do…” Hermione said. “Everyone knows about Harriet and You-Know-Who.”  
  
“Indeed my dear, but that is not the point of the exercise, is it?” Professor Trelawney countered. “That does not change the symbol in the tea-leaves, nor its meaning, does it?”  
  
“N-no… well… I guess not,” Hermione muttered.  
  
The whole class was staring at Hermione. None of them had ever heard her speak out against a teacher like that.  
  
Professor Trelawney returned her attention to the tea-cup. “The club… an attack… dear, dear, this is not a very happy cup is it?”  
  
“I… I thought that was an acorn,” Ronnie muttered sheepishly.  
  
“Ah and there is the skull. There is danger in your path my dear,” Professor Trelawney went on. Harriet shivered when Professor Trelawney gave the cup another turn and let out a terrible scream. Neville fell off his pouf, knocking over and smashing his second teacup.  
  
“Oh no… oh no… oh this is terrible,” Professor Trelawney said as she made her way on shaky knees to her arm chair, sinking into it and resting a trembling hand on her heart.  
  
“What is it, Professor?” Seamus asked eagerly.  
  
“I… I shouldn’t say… it is kinder not to…”  
  
“Not say what?” Lavender pressed.  
  
“My dear girl… you have… the Grim!”  
  
Parvati, Ronnie, Neville and Seamus all gasped. Dean, Lavender, Tori and Rachel however looked confused while Hermione looked sceptical. Harriet however blinked as the word triggered something in her memory. She had heard that name before.  
  
“What’s the Grim?” Dean asked, nervously.  
  
Professor Trelawney looked at him incredulously. “It is the giant, spectral, black dog that haunts church yards! It is an ill omen, an evil omen! The worst omen of… death!”  
  
At the words _black dog_ Harriet knew where she had heard the name ‘grim’ before. While running with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins after their escape from Privet Drive, they had seen the massive black dog following them, and Professor Howe had called it a Gurt Dog, not a Grim. He had also said: _“Many say that Black Dogs are ill omens, but they’re mostly misunderstood. They’re big and scary so people like to attach dark names to them: Barguist, the Grim, Gytrash, Padfoot.”_  
  
“ _I_ don’t think it looks like a Grim,” Hermione said coolly.  
  
Professor Trelawney’s face was full of dislike as she looked up at Hermione. “Do please forgive my saying so, dear, but alas I perceive very little receptivity to the vibrations of the timelines within you.”  
  
“But, how do you really know it’s a death omen?” Harriet asked. “I saw a big black dog this summer with… well… some friends. They said Black Dogs have many names, including the Grim, but they aren’t actually bad.”  
  
Professor Trelawney now looked at Harriet with something like dislike. “And who were these ‘friends’ to question the delicate workings of the future and prophecy?”  
  
Harriet glared. “Actually, it was Professor Sherrod Howe.”  
  
The class all looked at Harriet. Some faces were confused, while others showed awe, or shock, or disbelief.  
  
“You seriously met with Sherrod Howe… _the_ Sherrod Howe?” Parvati asked, her eyes wide.  
  
“Well… yeah, I mean I met him before. I met him in Professor Dumbledore’s office last year during the attacks. Anyway we were sort of, uh, traveling, and we saw one following us. He said it was a Gurt Dog and they protect travellers and children, and he told it that I was safe and it wasn’t going to be needed, so it left.”  
  
The class was now staring at Harriet with wide-eyed fascination. Professor Trelawney looked even more irritable that no one was taking her sighting of a Grim in Harriet’s teacup very seriously.  
  
“Professor Howe is adept at a great many things, my dear, but I cannot speak as to his talents as a Seer, I have heard none of them. The book clearly states that symbol is the Grim, and the Grim means Death. You are going to want to watch yourself, my dear, this does not bode well. While I hope your friend is right, what happens in the physical realm has no bearing on what I have seen. Class dismissed for the day.”  
  
The class went about packing up for their next class in a sombre mood. Harriet could tell some were eager to ask more about her encounter with Sherrod Howe. Others, notably Ronnie, were still looking worried. Hermione meanwhile was looking furious.  
  
“What utter rubbish!” Hermione declared the moment her feet touched the floor of the landing below.  
  
Harriet didn’t respond, merely sped up to get away from any further questions as they made their way to Transfiguration. Her mind was whirling. Who was right? Was it Professor Howe, or Professor Trelawney? Professor Howe certainly seemed much more authoritative. Professor Trelawney had seemed to get a little too much enjoyment out of being mysterious and vague. But what if Professor Howe had just said that about the black dog so Harriet wouldn’t panic? Cornelius Fudge had said not to trust him.  
  
Harriet shook her head. They arrived just in time for Transfiguration and Harriet quickly moved to sit with Kieran and Marcus who were waiting.  
  
“How was—you okay?” Kieran asked, noticing the look on the three girls’ faces.  
  
“Well, aside from Professor Trelawney just told her she was going to die, yeah she’s fine,” Hermione said. Her voice was dripping with irony.  
  
“Oh, okay yeah that’s not so fun,” Marcus said. At that moment, Professor McGonagall entered the room and the class fell silent.  
  
Harriet couldn’t focus. She kept going over Professor Howe’s words. He had said it was actually a good omen, and when he told the dog it wasn’t needed, it really had left. Though it had seemed reluctant to do so…  
  
“Potter!”  
  
Harriet jumped and looked up at Professor McGonagall who was standing over her, giving Harriet her trademark stare that made Harriet feel very, very small.  
  
“What is with you today?” Professor McGonagall asked.  
  
Harriet spluttered. Hermione raised her hand.  
  
“Please, Professor, we were just having our first Divination class, and we were reading tealeaves and—”  
  
“Oh of course, of course,” Professor McGonagall said, sounding exasperated and actually removing her glasses, rubbing her eyes. “Let me guess, she saw the Grim in your cup, didn’t she, Potter?”  
  
Harriet blinked and nodded.  
  
“I’ll have you know, Potter, that Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of at least one student a year since she started at this school twelve years ago. Take a wild guess at how many have died?”  
  
“I would guess none,” Jackson said from the back of the room.  
  
“That is correct, Lee,” Professor McGonagall said without looking at him. “Seeing death omens is Professor Trelawney’s favourite way to start a new class. I try and never speak ill of my colleagues, but needless to say I cannot very well teach my classes with my students terrified over false notions of their impending dooms. And so, since you appear in rather good health, I do hope you don’t mind if I don’t let you off homework today. It should go without saying that if you die, I will not require you to hand it in.”  
  
Quite a few students laughed at this, Harriet included. Professor McGonagall returned to her lecture, which today was Animagi. Harriet continued to smile, and joined in eagerly with the class as they applauded when Professor McGonagall turned herself into a tabby-cat and back again. However, as Harriet looked around, clearly not everyone was reassured. Ronnie was still avoiding Harriet’s eye.  
  
Most of the class was talking excitedly after Transfiguration, no longer about death omens, but about animagi. Harriet was surprised to see that it was Marcus and Kieran who seemed the most excited by the concept of animagi, and were talking excitedly with each other about what kinds of animals they would turn into if they could. Marcus wanted to turn into a falcon like his own falcon, Adal, so they could finally fly together. Kieran was less decisive, and just knew he wanted to turn into something else.  
  
Harriet continued to smile as they made their way down to lunch. She had decided who to believe. She would continue to believe Professor Howe. He was a bit mad, a bit dashing, and very clever. And somehow, deep down, Harriet knew that of everyone she had ever met, Professor Sherrod Howe would never lie to her.


	10. History of Horses

“There is only one fundamental rule in my mind when it comes to dealing with animals: ‘There are no rules.’  You are dealing with a creature that does not think, or act, or communicate in the same manner you do. This is why even the most experienced experts can still be injured. And yet, every now and then... something magical happens.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“Harriet? Did—did you really see a big, black dog this summer?” It was lunchtime. Ronnie was still looking uncertain and stealing nervous glances at Harriet.  
  
Hermione scowled. “Oh Ronnie, would you give that a rest? You heard Harriet and Professor McGonagall. Who are you going to trust; Professor _Sherrod Howe_ and Professor McGonagall, or some crazy fraud like her?”  
  
“How do you know she’s a fraud?” Ronnie retorted.  
  
“Well, by the sound of it this whole “Grim” thing is sort of an old story with her,” Kieran reasoned. “I mean, Professor McGonagall knew that’s what it was straight away, didn’t she?”  
  
“Yeah…” Ronnie admitted grudgingly.  
  
“Oh Ronnie, just out with it will you?” Dora demanded. “What about it’s really bothering you?”  
  
Ronnie scowled. “Well, what if it really was a death omen?!” she snapped. “And now I’ve gotta live with the fact I’m the one who saw it in my best-friend’s tea-cup!”  
  
Everyone fell silent at this. Even Hermione and Dora looked sympathetic.  
  
“Oh Ronnie, no one’s…” Hermione said, trailing off as she tried to find the right words. “You’re right, that isn’t good. All we’re saying is she’s probably wrong it’s a death omen. I mean—”  
  
“Trelawney’s a hack,” said a nearby voice cutting Hermione off. Harriet turned and saw Tori, who was sitting nearby with Rachel.  
  
“Totally, she’s as much a Seer as I am bigger than Tori,” Rachel added and Tori laughed.  
  
“How do you know?” Ronnie asked.  
  
Tori rolled her eyes. “Because we went to school with a real Seer. About the only thing Trelawney had right was that Divination _is_ really difficult.”  
  
“You went to school with a Seer?” Hermione asked. Now she was the one who sounded sceptical.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Rachel said. “He was in our grade. He was really nice. He came from a really long line of Native Seers, one of the few true pure-blooded Native families left. His parents worked for the Tylers; lived on their ranch and cared for the horses.”  
  
“Katy and Kenley, you mean?” Marcus asked.  
  
“Yeah, he was like the middle child between Kenley and Katy,” Rachel said. “They were pretty much brother and sisters.”  
  
“What… what happened to him?” Scott asked cautiously.  
  
Rachel and Tori’s faces both fell. Harriet felt her heart sink. “Honestly… we don’t know… He might be in a camp or—”  
  
“Don’t say it!” shrieked Katy, who had obviously been listening in. She got to her feet and glared. “Don’t you dare say he’s dead! He’s not! He’s NOT!”  
  
“Katy!” Ginny exclaimed. She got up too and rushed to Katy along with the rest of Katy’s friends, all trying to calm her. Even Professor Sinistra came down from the staff table and put an arm around Katy’s shoulders, shushing her in a motherly way and guiding her from the Great Hall. Ginny and the rest followed. An awkward silence followed as everyone watched the retreating group.  
  
“Well, let’s all head down to Hagrid’s,” Hermione said trying to smile. “We can finally figure out what the surprise is and get some fresh air. That’ll help us all feel better.”  
  
“Agreed,” Dora replied, smiling excitedly. “Come on, sour-puss,” she said hooking an arm under Ronnie’s and trying to pull her to her feet.  
  
Ronnie rolled her eyes and rose. Harriet smiled and they bid Scott a good afternoon before making their way out the front doors and into the grounds. In spite of Professor Trelawney and Ronnie’s fears, Harriet just couldn’t be worried. She knew Sirius Black was after her, but somehow here with her friends, going to classes, living the normal routine of her life, she couldn’t help but smile.  
  
Hagrid was waiting for them when they arrived at his cabin. He looked beside himself with excitement, rocking back and forth on his feet impatiently.  
  
“Come along now!” he called cheerfully. “Got an incredible lesson for us today; a truly unique experience. Never dreamed in my lifetime I’d get ter meet one but I got ter spend a whole two weeks learnin’ ever’thing I can about him and his kind. So rare he’s not even in yer books!”  
  
“Not that we’d know,” drawled Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harriet closed her eyes, praying for patience. Hagrid blinked in confusion. “What’s that yeh say?” he asked.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and pulled his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ from his bag, which he had belted shut. Several other students drew out their copies the book as well. Everyone had their books either belted, tied, or taped shut.  
  
“N-none of yeh’ve been able ter open yer books?” Hagrid asked, his face falling.  
  
Everyone shook their heads, even Hermione. Hagrid spluttered in exasperation.  
  
“Yeh got ter stroke ‘em!” he said and picked up Hermione’s copy. He pulled off the tape and the book began snapping immediately. However, Hagrid held it easily and ran one giant finger down its spine. The book shuddered and fell limp. Hagrid smiled handing it back to Hermione.  
  
“Oh goodness, how silly we were not thinking of stroking a finger-eating book,” Draco grumbled.  
  
“I-I thought they were funny,” Hagrid said awkwardly.  
  
“Oh yeah, a right laugh, they are,” Draco said.  
  
“Well, it is pretty sensible in the end when you think about it,” someone else spoke up. Harriet turned and saw that it was Jackson who was walking around the corner of Hagrid’s cabin, AJ walking alongside him.  
  
“Animals usually respond a lot better to kindness than to aggression and force,” AJ said giving Malfoy a disapproving look.  
  
Jackson walked over and picked up Hermione’s book. He smirked at Malfoy and turned the book around showed everyone the back cover.  
  
“Never mind the fact that ‘Stroke spine to open’ is written on the back cover if you’d taken the time to look at it,” he said.  
  
Harriet pulled her copy out, feeling it tremble as it attempted to free itself from the coil of clothesline. She looked at the back and realized he was correct. In fact, it was the only thing written on the back cover. Harriet started to feel a bit foolish. Malfoy however looked livid as he glared at Jackson.  
  
“Well, quite right yeh are, Lee,” Hagrid said clapping Jackson hard on the back, nearly making him drop Hermione’s book. “Oh, sorry. Well anyway, don’t need ter bother with yer books today. Like I said, your surprise isn’t in there anyway. Follow me.”  
  
Hagrid turned and led them all around the corner of his house, where Jackson and AJ had come, the two following close behind. Harriet started after them with the rest of the class. Behind her, she could hear Malfoy muttering with his group of cronies.  
  
“What is it with these American riff-raff and getting on with that great oaf?” he asked. “First that ‘Coy’ girl or whatever the hell her name is—”  
  
“Oh don’t give me that, Malfoy,” said a Slytherin boy with dark-red hair who Harriet did not know by name. “You couldn’t take your ferrety eyes off her last year.”  
  
“No one asked you, Mallory!” Malfoy snapped.  
  
“She is half-blood, you know,” added another tall black boy, his eyes glittering with malice. “So she is at least partly qualified.”  
  
Beside Harriet, Dora was smirking. “Welcome to the joys of Slytherin house.”  
  
“Do they always squabble like this?”  
  
“Oh yes,” Dora’s friend Sae said smiling. “Not that you should go counting Wright and Mallory friends because they are picking on Malfoy. They just really do not like Malf—ooooooooooo that is pretty,” Sae finished changing subjects halfway through and pointing.  
  
Harriet turned to look. They had come around the back of Hagrid’s hut and were now just outside his vegetable patch. In the middle, pulling up a fresh carrot from the dirt and sniffing it with great interest was the horse who had accompanied Jackson to McIntyre Manor that summer.  
  
“Oh, should have guessed,” Kieran said shaking his head. “He is a fine specimen though.”  
  
The horse looked up at the students, his black, fathomless eyes panning the group as he munched on the carrot lazily. Just like back at McIntyre Manor, Harriet felt the strong sense of intelligence coming from the horse, but she still found the inability to tell what expressions it was making disconcerting.  
  
“Right, this here is our big surprise for the day,” Hagrid said, about to pat the horse on the shoulders but it managed to duck out of the way in time and prance to the side.  
  
“What, a horse? Oh yes, terribly thrilling,” Draco drawled sounding bored.  
  
There was no guessing what the horse was thinking as his eyes narrowed and his ears folded back. He was staring straight at Malfoy, who also seemed to notice. He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably as the horse unmistakably glared at him. Harriet found the horse’s expressions even more unnerving than before.  
  
“Oh not just any horse,” Hagrid said. “Can anyone—er, you excluded, AJ and Lee—tell me what kind’er horse Epeius here is?”  
  
“A Clydesdale?” Malfoy said, drawing sycophantic sniggers from his gang.  
  
“Oh shut up, Malfoy,” Harriet hissed.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be passed out by now, Potter? We’re awfully close to the Dementors now you know?” Malfoy quipped back.  
  
“A Clydesdale you say?” Hagrid asked. Harriet couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed. “Well then, iff’n yeh know so much, why don’t yeh come up here and tell us all about ‘im then, eh?”  
  
Malfoy suddenly looked a great deal less confident, but he hitched his usual sneer back onto his face as he stepped forward.  
  
“Alright then, _professor_ , my mother has taken me riding before. As long as you know what you’re doing it’s no problem dealing with horses, they’re not the brightest animals, you know?” he called back over his shoulder to the rest of the class. “You approach it calmly from the front so it can see you, and—”  
  
“Boo!”  
  
Draco let out a cry of surprise and landed on his back in a puddle of mud leftover from yesterday’s rain. Harriet blinked looking around unsure at first of who had spoken. The horse, Epeius was prancing about and someone was laughing, a strange, deep laugh though it felt light and joyful.  
  
Harriet’s jaw fell wide open. It was the horse. Epeius was _laughing_.  
  
“Who’s not very bright you said?” Jackson asked Malfoy, his face full of glee as Epeius cantered about, his head held triumphantly high.  
  
Malfoy glared at the horse and scrambled to his feet. As he did, he stuck his hand in his pocket and began to draw his wand. “I’ll teach you to—”  
  
“To what?” Jackson asked, stepping between Malfoy and the horse. He had his own wand drawn already and his face had lost all of its playful nature. He looked ready to curse Malfoy without a moment’s hesitation.  
  
Hagrid quickly stepped in between them and AJ rushed to Jackson pushing his hand down.  
  
“Hey now! Wands away! No need fer that here! It was just a little joke there, Malfoy. Epeius didn’t mean anything by it,” Hagrid said, looking both angry and nervous.  
  
“Maybe a little,” Epeius said, his long face sticking around Hagrid’s side to look at Malfoy.  
  
Harriet gave her head a little shake. It was a talking horse; a real, true, talking horse. She had seen many strange things during the last two years since she learned she was a witch. Harriet knew she had the ability to speak to snakes, but that was a special power she had received from Voldemort, according to Professor Dumbledore. But this was different. This horse could actually speak.  
  
Hagrid gave Epeius a look and the horse simply snorted and stepped around Hagrid to look at the class. Jackson and Malfoy slowly put their wands away and Malfoy backed up to re-join his gang. He handed his robes to Crabbe who tried awkwardly to shake the mud off of them.  
  
Harriet returned her attention to Epeius who was still surveying the class. Finally he took a breath and spoke again. “Yes. I can speak. My name is Epeius. I am an Areion; an American Areion.”  
  
“But,” Hermione started, flipping through the glossary of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , “but there are Areions listed in here, Hagrid.”  
  
“Right, but not _Epeius’_ kind of Areion. People thought they’ve been extinct for ages,” Hagrid explained.  
  
“A misconception we’ve tried to keep going over the centuries,” Epeius said. “But now that the war is going on, people back home have bigger oats to chew than a long-lost species of talking horses.”  
  
Harriet raised her hand.  
  
“Yes, Harriet?” Hagrid asked.  
  
“But, I don’t understand… when I saw you this summer, why didn’t you talk then?” she asked.  
  
Epeius gave off a little snort that might have been a laugh. “Well, I learned pretty quickly once I got Jackson to civilization that being a talking horse seems to upset people who aren’t expecting you to be a talking horse.”  
  
“Heh yeah I could see that,” Marcus muttered. “Guessing that’s why you never spoke around me either?”  
  
“The very same reason,” Epeius replied.  
  
“Okay, so he’s a talking horse, big deal,” Malfoy said, apparently trying to get his own back. “What’s so special about that? There’s magical species of bird that can do that too.”  
  
“But I doubt you’d find even a handful of them that could fly as fast as Epeius can run,” Hagrid said, smiling down at Epeius. “Or carry as heavy of loads. Even the hairs of their manes and tails are nearly unbreakable.”  
  
“I’ll say, you should have seen how hard the lady who made my new wand this summer had to work to get one of Epeius’ tail hairs for the core,” Jackson said, holding his wand up.  
  
Quite a few of the other girls around the group giggled, even Pixie, though she quickly stopped when Malfoy and Zabini gave her a dirty look.  
  
“Wasn’t that funny,” Jackson muttered putting his wand away and looking sheepish again.  
  
Hagrid chuckled but Hermione, who hadn’t laughed, stepped towards Epeius. “Excuse me, Mr Epeius, but I would like to ask, how did your kind get to America? Do they speak of it in your stories at all?”  
  
The class fell silent and listened in. Epeius just kept looking at Hermione and again Harriet was visited with the frustration at not being sure what he was thinking. He seemed to have some human expressions, mostly around his eyes, but he didn’t seem to be able to frown or smile. Harriet then wondered if she was glad he couldn’t, as the sight of a smiling horse just might have been too much.  
  
Finally, Epeius answered. “Of course they do,” he said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Then, how?” Hermione asked. “Because from what I’ve read about life in Palaeolithic North America all native horse species died out until they were reintroduced by European settlers.”  
  
“Well, there you have your answer then,” Epeius said.  
  
“So you came with European settlers? The Spanish, English or French?” Kieran asked.  
  
“The Spanish. Spanish wizards liked to keep an Areion or two in each herd as they explored.”  
  
“Why was that?” Parvati asked.  
  
“And if you were brought by the Spanish, why don’t you speak Spanish?” asked Lavender.  
  
“¡Yo hablo español, señorita!” Epeius replied, sounding offended.  
  
“Oh, that was flash,” Lavender muttered.  
  
Epeius chuckled again and turned back to Parvati. “As for why the Spanish liked having us around, well, you can’t really talk to normal horses, can you? So having a few of us about to act as intermediaries I’m sure was useful.”  
  
“Then when did you all learn English?” Zabini asked, sounding torn between curiosity and scepticism.  
  
“Well it was necessity. Frankly, the Spanish lost, and we weren’t overly fond of them anyway. Our job was to survive. The tongue of the newcomers was English, and so we adapted.”  
  
“Heh, an animal talking about evolution? I like that,” the boy Mallory said.  
  
Epeius turned to Mallory. “Is the need to walk on two legs necessary to noticing the continual passing of seasons, or the aging of trees, even the coming and going of people’s? Oh yes, we know all things change.”  
  
“Do… do you mean the Natives?” Hermione asked. She was barely audible.  
  
“Yes,” Epeius said simply. “The proud Sioux. They were probably the finest horsemen in the entire world, so many tales we have of their skills from the backs of our brothers.”  
  
“‘Brothers?’” Dean Thomas asked. “Didn’t you ride with them?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why not?” asked Seamus Finnigan.  
  
Epeius gave a nicker that might have been a laugh, Harriet couldn’t quite tell. “We had gone through quite enough while living under the Spanish. We didn’t like the uses that the Spanish put us too, and we weren’t that anxious to just replace one human master with another. While the Sioux may have been slightly better than the Spanish, they still would have put us to use riding into battle against their fellow man and hunting our fellows, such as the bison.”  
  
“So, does your kind remember anything before the Spanish?” Hermione asked.  
  
Epeius didn’t respond right away. He seemed to be thinking. “You know, we don’t really have many stories of that, just that the Spanish brought us from across the sea.”  
  
“Hmmm,” Hermione muttered thoughtfully.  
  
Ronnie stepped forward now. “So, Hagrid said you can run really fast?”  
  
Epeius snorted and Harriet could not decipher that reaction, but Jackson’s face broke into a wide grin.  
  
“You all wanna find out just how fast?” Jackson asked.  
  
Most of the class nodded excitedly.  
  
Hagrid grinned. “Alright then, who’d like ter volunteer?”  
  
“Volunteer?” Pansy Parkinson asked nervously.  
  
“Fer a ride,” Hagrid replied.  
  
Most of the class now looked nervous instead of excited. Epeius’ ears drooped a little and Jackson’s face fell. “Well, it just doesn’t quite get the point across watching him run,” Jackson said, stroking Epeius’ mane in a comforting way.  
  
Harriet looked long and hard at the horse and finally stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”  
  
Hagrid beamed and Jackson blushed but smiled.  
  
“Doesn’t he need a saddle?” Harriet asked.  
  
AJ shook her head. “Not Epeius. You won’t find a smoother ride anywhere. And he’ll never throw a rider.”  
  
“Unless I want to,” Epeius said.  
  
Jackson laughed. “Nor would you get him to consent to wear one.”  
  
“Not in a hundred years.”  
  
“Okay then,” Harriet said, not entirely reassured as she stepped closer. “How do I…?”  
  
“Here ya go,” Hagrid said and held out a hand just high enough for Harriet to step on and get to the right height to get on Epeius’ back.  
  
Harriet stepped up onto his hand but then looked at Epeius awkwardly. “Er, any particular way I should sit?”  
  
“Any way you want,” Jackson said. “Like AJ said, he won’t throw you.”  
  
Harriet nodded and threw one leg over Epeius’ back. It wasn’t exactly lady like, but it put her in mind of riding her broomstick at least. Epeius was warm and breathed deep and slow under her. She flushed feeling a little silly.  
  
“Just squeeze his sides a bit and lean forward,” Jackson said.  
  
“O-okay,” Harriet said, looking back out at the class. Most of the Slytherins were looking sceptical, while Pansy and Pixie were looking downright malicious. Malfoy had a look on his face that Harriet couldn’t quite place. Was it worry? There was no mistaking the looks of worry on the faces of Lavender, Parvati and Ronnie. Kieran however was smiling at her proudly and Hermione had a slight look of jealousy. Neville looked terrified.  
  
“Okay, so, um… whenever you’re ready,” Harriet said, trying to be polite as she could, feeling awkward enough already.  
  
Epeius turned his head and looked at her. Harriet blinked as she stared back into his shiny black eye. Epeius looked away again.  
  
“Sure you’re ready?” he asked.  
  
“Yes,” Harriet said and leaned forward a little more.  
  
“Alright then. Three, two, one!”  
  
The next thing Harriet knew, the wind was whipping her hair behind her head. Epeius seemed to move just as smoothly as a broomstick as his legs flashed and thudded rapidly. She couldn’t even hear the individual sound of the hoof-beats, it was just a constant drone.  
  
AJ had been right, despite the speed she didn’t feel as though she was going to be thrown at all. She didn’t even need to hold on as Epeius shot off around the castle and tilted hard, rounding the corners with ease despite his speed. Even then, Harriet had a strange suspicion that Epeius was not going as fast as he really could.  
  
Finally they got around the back of the castle and were starting to come up on the lake. Harriet gasped. Epeius wasn’t about to do what she thought he was going to do. The horse closed on the lake with alarming speed and Harriet closed her eyes waiting for the splash.  
  
It didn’t come. Harriet opened her eyes and saw that Epeius had managed to turn without her noticing and was running along the lake shore instead. Harriet felt her lips curling into a smile in spite of herself. She attempted to ask Epeius if he could go faster but her voice was lost in the howling wind.  
  
However, at that moment Epeius began to slow down, skidding on his hooves in the mud. He came to a halt and his head was swinging wide from side to side, his ears flickering all around, his eyes wide and alert.  
  
“Something wrong?” Harriet asked.  
  
“They’re coming. We have to go back.”  
  
“What’s coming?”  
  
Epeius looked back at her. “Dementors.”  
  
Just then, Harriet felt a chill begin to run down her back, spreading out through her body. Epeius spun and took off once more, churning the mud and dirt beneath his hooves as he shot back up the shoreline. Harriet felt the chill ebbing away as they headed back towards Hagrid’s hut. Harriet smiled smugly as they shot underneath the Whomping Willow, much too fast for it to react; swinging its dangerous branches harmlessly after them.  
  
Epeius skidded to another stop in front of the class and everyone gaped.  
  
“Wow, what was it like?!” Dean asked excitedly.  
  
“I’ve never seen anything move that fast!” Kendra Hwang, a Slytherin, said.  
  
“Can I try next?!” asked Hermione, looking breathless with wide eyes.  
  
“One at a time now, one at a time,” Hagrid said chuckling. “Harriet went so that was one Gryffindor, let’s give a Slytherin a go this time!”  
  
Harriet beamed as Hagrid helped her down off Epeius. More than anything, she was happy that by the looks of things, Hagrid’s first lesson was a huge success.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet grunted trying to comb her hair as fast as she could. She had slept hard that night after so little sleep the previous few. She was finding it difficult to believe that only three days ago she had been only a block away from a giant explosion that killed over thirty people. And then yesterday she had met and even ridden a horse that not only could talk, but could also run faster than Harriet had ever flown on her broomstick.  
  
Once more, it looked as though Basheera had left early for prayer. Harriet and the others had dressed quickly. They were all excited because today was their first day of History of Magic with Professor Stratton. The new professor did seem quite austere from the few times they saw him at meals, but as far as Harriet was concerned, anyone teaching History of Magic had to be better than Binns.  
  
They took a longer time reaching the History of Magic class, as it was no longer held in the same classroom. While most students, Parvati and Lavender in particular, were chatting excitedly, Hermione alone seemed indifferent to the change of staff.  
  
“What’s wrong with you, Hermione?” Parvati asked. “We have a _new_ professor who looks interesting and smart.”  
  
“And tall and dark and muscly,” Lavender added in a dreamy tone.  
  
“Well Professor Binns was interesting and smart, if anyone had cared to pay attention,” Hermione said defensively.  
  
“Well we did try,” Marcus said. “The stuff he was saying I’m sure was real interesting if _anyone_ else in the world had been saying it. And the way he just read everything out of the book, it was so lazy. Most the stuff I learned in that class I learned just reading the book on my own.”  
  
Hermione sniffed sticking her nose in the air. “And I certainly wouldn’t just pay attention over something as trivial as looks.”  
  
“ _Lockhart_!” said Ronnie, though she attempted to make it sound like a sneeze. Quite a few of the surrounding class laughed openly.  
  
Hermione glared at Ronnie. “Oh shut up. I stopped believing in his qualifications as a teacher the moment he was rude about Kieran.”  
  
Harriet shrugged. “Well—”  
  
“Okay, well that was the turning point at least!”  
  
There followed an awkward silence when finally Basheera spoke up. “He just would read from the book?” she asked Marcus, changing the subject.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Ronnie cut-in with an ever-suffering voice. “It was _awful_! It only took five minutes and I was _out_ like a light.”  
  
Basheera giggled.  
  
At that moment, the door swung open and Professor Stratton was there. Harriet swallowed. Seeing him from across the Great Hall had not done justice to just how tall Professor Stratton truly was. She was used to very tall people, being such good friends with Hagrid. Yet somehow Hagrid did not have quite the presence that Professor Stratton did. Harriet found she couldn’t take her eyes off of his. She was anxious to see if they flashed greenish-silver again as they had the first night.  
  
Finally, Professor Stratton’s face broke into a wide smile. His teeth were very white and straight, which reminded her for a fleeting moment of Lockhart, but Professor Stratton’s smile was much more genuine.  
  
“Welcome. Step inside and take your seats please,” Professor Stratton said and stepped back for them to enter.  
  
Harriet took a seat at the front with Hermione, Ronnie, Marcus, Kieran, Basheera and Neville. Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati took their usual seats in the back of the room while Rachel, AJ, Tori, and Jackson sat right behind Harriet and her friends.  
  
Professor Stratton shut the door and strode to the front of the room. Harriet looked around the new room with interest. The walls were lined with books, which Harriet noted Hermione was eyeing with keen interest. There was also a great deal of magical artefacts, many Harriet didn’t recognize.  
  
“Well, greetings and welcome to our first History of Magic class together. As I learned too well in other classes yesterday, I can see we have quite a bit of work to do, but first I suppose we could start with any questions you all have,” Professor Stratton said looking around.  
  
Harriet had questions, but mostly she was taken aback. He had given Harriet the impression of being another Professor McGonagall or Snape. But he was beaming around expectantly, standing behind his desk and rocking on the balls of his feet pleasantly.  
  
True to form, Hermione’s hand was the first in the air.  
  
“Yes?” Professor Stratton asked.  
  
“Well, I was just wondering sir, Professor Dumbledore said you’ve come out of retirement, but if you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t seem to be of retiring age.”  
  
Harriet looked at Hermione in surprise. That wasn’t the question she would have thought to ask and she looked back at Professor Stratton, hoping he wasn’t offended. However, Professor Stratton simply smiled.  
  
“Well, I retired from _teaching_ it is true. And you don’t need me to tell you, Miss Granger, that looks are certainly deceiving,” he said, a chuckle in his voice.  
  
Hermione flushed. Harriet felt a little surprised. This was the first she had ever spent in real close contact with Professor Stratton and he already knew their names?  
  
“I ceased teaching as a profession shortly before you were all born. Which I know seems _centuries_ ago but really once you get to be my age it is perhaps the blink of an eye,” Professor Stratton said.  
  
“Did you teach History of Magic then too, sir?” Tori asked.  
  
“I did, as a matter-of-fact,” Professor Stratton said. “It has been my lifelong passion. Dumbledore requested me to come give Professor Binns’ a well-earned holiday for a few years as a favour. I taught from the fall of Nineteen Seventy-One to the summer of Nineteen Seventy-Eight.”  
  
Kieran raised his hand now. “So, that means you knew my parents then?”  
  
“Oh yes, Mister O’Brien,” Professor Stratton replied. “And yours, Mister Longbottom, and of course you too, Miss Potter. Heh, I admit I gave your father and his friends more than my fair share of detentions while here.”  
  
Harriet blinked and opened her mouth to reply but Parvati was quicker.  
  
“What was Professor McGonagall like back then?” Parvati asked with interest.  
  
“Oh much the same as far as personality goes,” Professor Stratton said in an offhand tone.  
  
“Do you remember any other professors?” Lavender asked.  
  
“Well naturally I remember Professor Dumbledore and Flitwick—oh, Miss Weasley, your parents graduated shortly before I began, so while I have met them I did not have them as pupils—I also recall some of your professors from when they themselves were students here. I knew Professors Lupin and Snape back when they were wee first-years,” Professor Stratton explained.  
  
“Oh jeez, Snape was a kid too once upon a time? That’s a terrifying thought,” Dean quipped from the back of the room, causing a few giggles.  
  
“Well yes, everyone was a child once upon a time,” Professor Stratton said calmly. “Even Voldemort himself.”  
  
A wave of gasps swept over the room at the sound of the name. Tori looked around at everyone who had gasped with annoyance. “Oh seriously you all, it’s just a name!”  
  
“Yeah, the name of the most evil person to ever exist!” Seamus shot back.  
  
Tori opened her mouth to reply but Professor Stratton held up a hand. “Now, now,” he said quelling the room. “No call for that. A name is a name. Simply a word used to give meaning to an object or idea, nothing more. Anyway, does anyone have any other questions?”  
  
This time, it was Jackson who raised his hand.  
  
“Yes, Lee?” Professor Stratton asked.  
  
“Well, Professor, I have my friend Epeius here, and he had his first sort of outing getting to know the students yesterday in Professor Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures class… and while it was going on, Granger brought up a good point… Epeius doesn’t know anything about his people’s history—”  
  
“People? He’s a horse—” Seamus said cutting Jackson off but Professor Stratton gave him a quelling look and he fell silent.  
  
“Go on, Lee.”  
  
“Well, he doesn’t know anything about how his people really came to be, like, before the Spanish brought them to America.”  
  
Professor Stratton nodded and walked around in front of his desk before leaning back against it. “And so you were hoping I could shed a little light on that?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Jackson replied.  
  
Professor Stratton stroked his chin in thought. “Well, that is a rather interesting story, entwined in the magical history of ancient Greece.”  
  
“Ancient Greece?” Marcus asked, his eyes going wide with excitement.  
  
“Indeed. In fact, despite Professor Binns’ original lesson plans of studying witch burnings, I figured topics such as Ancient Greece would be much more instructive and interesting, and probably a great deal less depressing.”  
  
“Can’t say fairer than that,” Dean agreed.  
  
“However, I’m not entirely sure they will be the answers your friend is looking for,” Professor Stratton went on with a sombre look at Jackson. “Unfortunately, much of the magical history of ancient Greece has become so entwined with mythology and folklore it is very difficult to separate the legends from the facts. So I’m afraid much of what I can tell you is conjecture only.”  
  
Jackson shrugged. “Anything’s better than nothing,” he said.  
  
“Well… people always used to say the Chamber of Secrets was just a myth but Harriet sure proved that wrong last year,” Ronnie said, actually looking excited.  
  
Professor Stratton gave a short laugh. “Well, what have you all been taught about Greek mythology?”  
  
Immediately, Hermione’s hand punched straight up into the air.  
  
“Miss Granger?”  
  
“Yes sir, there were the main Greek gods, the Olympians, who took over after Cronus and the Titans. They were noted for being very human in their personalities but incredibly powerful. The leader was Zeus, who controlled lightning. Though if you were to ask _me_ since he could control earthquakes I’d say Poseidon should have been the most powerful—”  
  
“Okay, okay,” Professor Stratton said chuckling. “Definitely know enough, Miss Granger, considering Greek mythology was not a part of the curriculum until now.”  
  
He cleared his throat and looked around the class. “Yes, most of Greek mythology is dominated by the tales of the Olympians who overthrew Cronus and the titans to take over controlling the mortal world from their home on Mount Olympus. Each had a certain aspect of the natural world or Grecian life that they were purported to control. Often they were picked as patrons for certain cities, such as Athena who was the patron of Athens. Incidentally, I should note the Roman name for Athena was of course…?”  
  
Professor Stratton gave Hermione an expectant smile and Hermione beamed. “Minerva!”  
  
“Precisely. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, that is the _very_ brief version to get us going. We’ll go into more detail in the following days but it is sufficient I think for us to start there, because we must also understand that is the _Muggle_ version of that history,” Professor Stratton went on.  
  
“The Muggle version?” Marcus asked looking even more interested.  
  
“Indeed. It does coincide rather strongly with the magical accounts, however, in magical accounts it appears to be unlikely the Olympians were actually gods and goddesses.”  
  
The whole class fell silent at this.  
  
“Then, what were they?” Kieran asked.  
  
“Why, most modern magical historians theorize they were in fact witches and wizards.”  
  
“You mean… you’re not seriously suggesting they were real?” Hermione asked, her mouth hanging open. “Real people?”  
  
“Well, it is a very strong possibility. There is much of the ancient magical world that we do not know. Many records were purged around the time of the creation of the Statute of Secrecy. The magical world went into hiding and never looked back. It’s only been recently that we have started looking back and trying to unlock the mysteries. However, there is very compelling evidence that the figures such as Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Athena, did in fact exist thousands of years ago. They may have existed at the very birth of Greece, and so even within a few generations of their deaths, and perhaps even within their own lifetimes, they could have been witches and wizards of such extraordinary power they created their own legends in their own time.”  
  
“But sir, that’s just crazy!” Dean spluttered. “To think we wouldn’t even know that the Greek gods were real—”  
  
“And goddesses!” Rachel snapped.  
  
“Right, sure. Anyway, I mean, how could we not know that!?”  
  
Professor Stratton leaned back on the desk again. “What year was Hogwarts founded?”  
  
“Uhhhhh…” Dean blinked thinking hard.  
  
“Right. We don’t even know what year the school which you are attending at this _very moment_ was founded. Until very recently it wasn’t known that the Vikings had made it to the American continents almost half a millennia before Columbus made his voyage,” he paused and leaned forward speaking in a hushed voice, “though to be fair to both, obviously the Native Americans ‘discovered’ North America many millennia before even the Vikings.”  
  
Tori and Hermione giggled.  
  
“Okay, so, the Greek gods—and goddesses,” Jackson said with a nervous look at Rachel, “what does that have to do with Epeius?”  
  
“Well, because according to most legends, the Areions were created by the Olympians—I think we can consider that our politically correct name for them—though the legends are a little hazy as to which of the Olympians were directly responsible. Most accounts however say he was sired by Poseidon with the goddess Demeter.”  
  
“You mean like they did, you know, and gave birth to him?” Parvati asked, sounding revolted.  
  
“Well, that is the _legend_ version of the story at least. More likely, Demeter and Poseidon, if we accept the witch/wizard hypothesis, created the Areions, most likely as war-steeds,” Professor Stratton explained.  
  
“Well that would fit,” Hermione said. “Most people who encounter them seem to want them for that purpose according to Epeius himself. The Spanish, the natives…”  
  
“Precisely,” Professor Stratton agreed.  
  
“Heh, not sure Epeius will like that…” Jackson muttered.  
  
Professor Stratton sighed. “I wouldn’t think so. Often that is the reason humans dabble in the affairs of other species. Not even just the magical world. Would the myriad of dog and cat breeds exist outside mankind’s intervention? Do you think sheep and cows just evolved through natural processes? But I would still tell him to take heart. After all, it’s not always about where you came from, but about whom you are. Perhaps they were bred as beasts of war, but haven’t they become something much more? They have their own culture and their freedom. They escaped what they were. Tell him that and that he should be more proud of his people now than he was before.”  
  
Jackson beamed, and Harriet felt her heart glow. She had been uncertain of Professor Stratton before, but that was such a “Dumbledore-ish” thing for him to say she could not help but smile. In spite of all the worries, of having had tragedy happen only a few days before, somehow in that moment, Harriet knew good things were going to happen that year. Very good things.


	11. Boggarts

“The existence of Phobias, I feel, says a great deal about humanity. How seriously can you really take a species that will experience abject terror at something often completely harmless when there are other true terrors that exist in the world? And in the end, most of the time all it comes down to is misunderstanding.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
Harriet was trembling with excitement as they headed towards their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Lupin. Harriet couldn’t remember being this excited for a class before. Not even the lousy Potions class she had sat through that morning could dampen her spirits. Behind her, Harriet’s friends were still muttering angrily about Professor Snape.  
  
“I still agree with Ronnie, you should have just lied,” Harriet heard Marcus grumble. “There was no way he could have proven it was you.”  
  
Harriet grimaced. As per usual in Potions, Neville had gone to pieces and made his potion improperly. To “encourage” Neville to do the potion properly, Snape had threatened to feed some of Neville’s potion to his toad, Trevor, saying it would likely poison the amphibian. Hermione, despite Professor Snape’s orders not to help, had whispered the instructions to Neville when Professor Snape wasn’t looking, with the result that the potion did work properly in the end. Professor Snape wasn’t fooled.  
  
“Come on! We’ll be late for our first Lupin class!” Harriet called over her shoulder excitedly to change the subject.  
  
“Coming! We’re coming!”  
  
After two years of professors the likes of Lockhart and Quirrell, Harriet was anxious to study the subject under a teacher who really seemed to know what he was doing. While Harriet had not actually witnessed him drive off the Dementor on the train, the fact that so many of her friends had seen him drive the Dementor off was good enough for Harriet.  
  
Her interest in the subject had grown over the summer, following her altercation with Tom Riddle’s memory in the Chamber of Secrets. Her resolve to study the subject as hard as she could had been encouraged by the news that Sirius Black was after her in an attempt to convert her to the Dark Arts. She knew the only way to fight that was to become as good at Defence Against the Dark Arts as she possibly could, and she was beside herself with eagerness to begin.  
  
When they arrived, Professor Lupin was nowhere to be seen. After they settled in, quills at the ready his absence started to feel strange. Harriet kept making a fuss of arranging everything the right way on her desk, drawing amused looks from her friends. She wanted to make sure that Professor Lupin was in no doubt that Harriet was a model student.  
  
It was only another minute before Professor Lupin entered the room. His briefcase and clothes were still shabby and worn, but Professor Lupin himself looked in much better health and spirits as he set his briefcase on the deck and turned to smile at them all.  
  
“Well, I am pleased to see how eager you all are for class to begin,” he said as his eyes scanned the room. Harriet felt her chest swell slightly. “But I’m going to have to ask you to put your things away and follow me. We’re going to have a practical lesson today, and so all we shall need is our wands.”  
  
The class began to murmur as everyone put away their books and writing utensils and rose to follow Professor Lupin. He led them down the corridor, but paused as they rounded a corner. Harriet did her best to peer between Dean and Seamus’ shoulders in front of her to see what the hold-up was.  
  
It was Peeves, the Hogwarts poltergeist, whose sole purpose was to cause mischief and mayhem throughout the castle. At the moment, he was floating upside down and stuffing chewing gum into the keyhole of a door. Peeves was concentrating so intently he didn’t notice Professor Lupin was there until Professor Lupin was only a couple feet behind him. At which point he spun right side up and danced about in the air.  
  
“Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin!” Peeves chanted.  
  
Everyone looked at Professor Lupin except for Harriet who was glaring at Peeves. While Peeves was generally rude and took orders from no one, he would usually show at least a little respect to the teachers. Professor Lupin continued to smile placidly.  
  
“I would take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves. Otherwise Mister Filch won’t be able to get to his brooms.”  
  
As Peeves was in a constant war with Filch, the bad-tempered Hogwarts caretaker who seemed to think his entire purpose in life was to punish students and Peeves for any infraction imaginable, this reprimand did not achieve the desired result. Instead, Peeves simply blew a loud raspberry before returning to his dance and “Loony, loopy Lupin” song.  
  
Professor Lupin sighed and drew his wand, albeit reluctantly. He turned back to the class and gave a half-smile.  
  
“This is a useful little spell, please watch closely.”  
  
Professor Lupin turned to Peeves once more and pointed his wand at the gum jammed in the keyhole. “ _Waddiwasi_ ,” he said and gave his wand a flick towards Peeves.  
  
The gum shot from the keyhole and flew straight up Peeve’s left nostril. Peeves cried out in rage, attempting to dislodge the gum. He shook a fist at Professor Lupin and swooped off down the corridor, cursing loudly.  
  
“That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Seamus Finnigan said reverently. Harriet then remembered their very first day of classes two years ago, when Peeves had grabbed Seamus’ nose through a door.  
  
“Thank you, Seamus,” Professor Lupin said as he pocketed his wand.  
  
They continued down the corridor until they came to the door to the staffroom. Most of the class was giving Professor Lupin looks of near reverence over his seemingly effortless defeat of the pesky poltergeist, who had given them such trouble over the last two years of schooling.  
  
Professor Lupin opened the door and ushered them all inside the room. The room was long with panelled walls. There was a long table with enough chairs around it for all of the Hogwarts staff, a large wardrobe, and a fireplace surrounded by mismatched armchairs. In one of the chairs sat Professor Snape who was reading through a stack of essays.  
  
Professor Snape’s eyes narrowed but his lips curled into a sneer as the students entered the room. He gathered up the essays and held up a hand to Professor Lupin. “Leave it open, Lupin, I would rather not witness this.”  
  
Professor Lupin smiled obligingly and stepped aside. As Professor Snape reached the door he paused and turned back to look at the students.  
  
“I should warn you, Lupin, that this class contains Neville Longbottom. I’ll advise you not to trust him with anything too difficult,” he turned to leave but paused once more and gave the class another unpleasant sneer. “Unless of course Miss Granger is whispering instructions in his ear.”  
  
Neville and Hermione flushed while the rest of the class glared. Harriet actually opened her mouth to say something to Professor Snape but Professor Lupin spoke up first.  
  
“I see. Well, I was going to request that Neville assist me with the first phase of today’s lesson,” Professor Lupin said before turning and smiling warmly to Neville. “And I am sure he will perform his role admirably.”  
  
Neville’s face went from red to white so rapidly Harriet was sure he was going to faint. Professor Snape continued to sneer but said no more before he finally left the room. Professor Lupin wasted no time, clapping his hands together eagerly and smiling at them.  
  
“Right then!” Professor Lupin said and led them to the end of the room to the large wardrobe that Harriet had hid in during her first year. Professor Lupin stood next to the wardrobe and as he did it shuddered and wobbled as if something inside was struggling to get out. Quite a few students, Harriet included, took a step back.  
  
“Now, now, no need to worry,” Professor Lupin said in a calming tone. “It’s just a Boggart.”  
  
Most of the class looked as though they disagreed there was no need to worry. Neville swayed a little and Jackson and Marcus grabbed his arms propping him up. Parvati and Lavender both took large steps back and even Seamus looked nervous.  
  
“Boggarts favour dark, tight spaces for their homes. Wardrobes, as we see here, are very common, as are the spaces under beds. The latter of course being how they played a critical part in the legend of the ‘bogeyman’ amongst Muggle cultures,” Professor Lupin explained.  
  
“I knew he was real!” Marcus said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The joke did not seem to go over so well with most of the other students from wizarding families, but Harriet and Hermione laughed.  
  
“Well, in a manner of speaking,” Professor Lupin said, chuckling. “Anyway, this particular boggart moved in yesterday afternoon and I received permission from the headmaster to allow it to stay so that I could give my third year students practice at dealing with them. Now, can anyone tell me what a boggart is?”  
  
Hermione’s hand shot upwards. “It’s a shape-shifter. It takes the shape of whatever the person facing it fears the most. Because of this, no one knows just what exactly a boggart looks like.”  
  
“A most excellent explanation,” Professor Lupin said. Harriet was sure she could feel the heat coming from Hermione’s face as she beamed. “It is safe to assume that the boggart within the wardrobe has not assumed an appropriate form, as it does not know who it is facing. I will admit I do feel awkward teaching how to deal with boggarts in Defence Against the Dark Arts, as they are not technically a dark creature. However, they are often used by those who practice the dark arts to protect valuables and stores of dark objects.”  
  
Neville spluttered again and Jackson rolled his eyes at him. “Come on, you’ve got to stand-up for yourself sometime.”  
  
“However,” Professor Lupin said calling the class’ attention back, “I will say that we do have a distinct advantage over the boggart already before we have even begun.”  
  
Harriet jumped as Professor Lupin said her name. “Harriet, I wonder if you’ve spotted our advantage?”  
  
Harriet thought. She had been caught off guard by Professor Lupin’s direct question, and having Hermione bouncing up and down next to you as you tried to think was difficult at best. Harriet however thought she saw the answer.  
  
“Well, I’d say for one thing we already know that it’s a boggart and not whatever scares us most,” Harriet replied and looked around the room. “Oh! And since there are so many of us here, it’ll be confusing for the boggart to know what form to take.”  
  
“Precisely,” Professor Lupin replied. “Thus, I will strongly recommend that in the event you do run into a boggart, even if you only suspect it to be a boggart, to bring company along. Two or three people minimum I should say. In that event the boggart will be confused, as it is very rare for even two people to have the exact same fear. So instead, the boggart becomes confused and attempts to scare both at once. After all, should it become a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug?”  
  
Professor Lupin chuckled. “In fact, I saw a boggart once make that very mistake and became a headless slug… which of course was not remotely frightening. Now, the charm that repels a boggart is quite simple, but it requires a strong force of mind. When you say the incantation, you must be thinking of the thing you fear the most in a manner you find comical. This is because the one thing that finishes a boggart is laughter.”  
  
“Laughter?” Dean asked.  
  
“Yes, Dean,” Professor Lupin said. “Laughter: the ultimate counter to fear. Now wands out everyone, we will practice the charm first before I let the boggart out. Now everyone repeat after me: _Riddikulus_!”  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!” repeated the class.  
  
“Very good,” Professor Lupin said, “but that was the easy part. This is where we shall turn to Neville for our demonstration.”  
  
Neville stepped forward, trembling head to foot as the wardrobe continued to rattle angrily.  
  
“Now Neville, the first thing we must tackle is, what do you think is the thing that scares you most of all?”  
  
Neville looked as though he was trying to reply, but no sound was coming out.  
  
“Sorry? Didn’t quite catch that?”  
  
Neville took a deep sigh and hung his head. “Professor Snape…”  
  
Most of the class laughed at this. Harriet saw that even Neville was giving everyone apologetic smiles.  
  
“Hmmm… Professor Snape you say…” Professor Lupin muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully studying the wardrobe. “You live with your grandmother, do you not, Neville?”  
  
“Um-y-yes… but I’d rather the boggart not turn into her either!”  
  
“Oh no, not what I meant. I was in fact wondering what sort of clothes she wears, perhaps if she wishes to look especially fancy?”  
  
“Oh!” Neville spluttered eagerly. “Oh I know one! She has this big tall hat with a stuffed vulture on it she wears everywhere, and a long green-dress with a fox-fur scarf!”  
  
“Hmmmm, a handbag to go with it?”  
  
“Yeah, a big red one!”  
  
“I see…” Professor Lupin said thoughtfully. “What I need you to do Neville is to picture those clothes _very_ carefully. Do you see it?”  
  
Neville closed his eyes and nodded. “Got it.”  
  
“Good, now, when the door opens, the boggart will come out and attempt to drive you off by turning into Professor Snape.”  
  
Neville’s face fell once more and he swallowed.  
  
“Once it does, you will raise you wand like this, pointing it at Professor Boggart Snape, and while concentrating very hard on your grandmother’s clothes, cry out _Riddikulus_! If you perform the charm correctly, the boggart will assume the form of Professor Snape wearing that hat, green dress, fox-fur scarf and big red handbag!”  
  
Everyone, Harriet included, broke out laughing. The wardrobe wobbled and rocked again.  
  
“When Neville succeeds, I will call him back and send another forward. While it is best to tackle a boggart in pairs at the same time, there is no guarantee you will always encounter a boggart with a partner or two. So I must now ask all of you to think very hard of the thing that scares you the most, and imagine how you would make it appear comical.”  
  
The class nodded and everyone closed their eyes to think. Harriet closed hers as well and tried to think of what scared her most in the world. It was an odd moment of humility for Harriet as she realized just how many things there were in the world that scared her. First she thought of Lord Voldemort, both as a nose-less face sticking out of the back of Professor Quirrell’s head, then young, sixteen year old Tom Riddle with murder in his eyes. The next image to come to her head was Sirius Black kneeling before her, grinning and calling her ‘My Lady.’  
  
However, the moment Harriet thought of a way to make that scene comical, Sirius Black kneeling before her, wearing chains and looking devastated at having been defeated by a thirteen year old girl, another even worse image crept into her mind. A slimy, scabbed, rotting hand disappearing into the sleeve of a cloak, a gasping, rattling breath and the deepest cold she had ever known in her life.  
  
“Right then, everyone ready?” Professor Lupin asked.  
  
Harriet jumped and felt her fear grow. She definitely wasn’t ready, but she didn’t think she could admit to it. She had no idea how to make a Dementor less frightening. On top of that, everyone else was taking off their robes in preparation to take on the boggart. Harriet grimaced; she was about to fail in her very first Defence Against the Dark Arts class, she just knew it.  
  
“Very well then, Neville, we’re all going to back away to give you a clear field,” Professor Lupin said. The class backed away leaving Neville in the middle of the room. He was trembling and his face was drained of colour, but his hand was gripping his wand tightly and he was rolling up his sleeves.  
  
“I’m going to count down from three, Neville,” Professor Lupin said and he pointed his wand at the handle of the wardrobe’s door. “Three—two—one—go!”  
  
Red sparks shot from Professor Lupin’s wand and struck the handle. The door flung open and from the wardrobe’s depths stepped the unmistakable figure of Professor Snape. His eyes found Neville and he began reaching into his robe, bearing down on Neville.  
  
Neville took a couple steps backwards but finally just as the boggart Professor Snape was drawing his wand, Neville managed to squeak: “ _R-r-r-r-riddikulus_!”  
  
Most of the class jumped as a sharp crack like a bullwhip split the air. Professor Snape stumbled and looked down at himself in shock. Harriet’s jaw fell open at the sight of Professor Snape indeed wearing a very tall hat topped with a stuffed vulture, a long lacy green dress, and a huge red handbag.  
  
The class burst out laughing. The boggart looked about confused and Professor Lupin smiled. “Excellent, Neville! Excellent! Parvati, forward!”  
  
Neville joined the class and Parvati stepped forward. Unlike Neville, her face was set and determined as she pointed her wand at the boggart. The boggart turned its attention to her and with another loud crack became a looming mummy, covered in bandages and raising its arms menacingly towards Parvati.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!”  
  
The mummy went to take another step but at that moment one of the bandages at its feet unravelled and it tripped, landing face first and its head popping off, bouncing about the room like a football.  
  
“Seamus!”  
  
Seamus actually ran forward, and with a crack, the headless mummy became a floating woman with long black hair the brushed the floor, thin greenish skin stretched over her skeleton. It was a banshee. Her eyes began to glow menacing as she took in Seamus and opened her mouth wide. A long, pitiful, wailing scream began to fill the room that raised the hairs on Harriet’s head and caused more than a few students to stuff their fingers in their ears.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!”  
  
The banshee gasped and clutched her throat. Seamus had taken away her voice.  
  
“Basheera!”  
  
Basheera moved up to the boggart. Basheera’s boggart was the strangest so far. After the loud crack, instead of some terrifying monster, the boggart seemed to have become an ornate box sitting on the ground perched upon a stack of beautiful silken fabric. The lid popped open on its own and revealed a large pile of gold within.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!” Basheera shouted and with another loud crack, the box turned into a music box, playing a tinkling, merry tune.  
  
“Adele, go!”  
  
AJ stepped forward now. The boggart cracked again and this time became a massive rattlesnake, its tail rattling rapidly and its fangs bore. In spite of herself, Harriet tried to hear what the snake was saying but AJ was too quick for her.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!” she cried and the snake bounced into the air, took its own tail in its mouth and began to roll around the room like a hula-hoop.  
  
Next was Lavender whose boggart was a giant, blood covered eyeball that turned into a beach ball.  
  
“Tori!”  
  
Tori stepped forward. The boggart cracked and became a figure that Harriet knew only too well. A tall, thin man with a pale, round face, long black hair, and wearing a pure-white suit. It was Solomon Kinney, the man Harriet had seen in the Leaky Cauldron, the man who had only days ago killed thirty people. He sneered at Tori wickedly and started towards her.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!” Tori shouted. There was another crack and the boggart Kinney stumbled backwards. His white suit was now covered in red stains as if he had been pelted by a crowd with rancid tomatoes.  
  
“Kieran!”  
  
Kieran was the first who Harriet thought might fail. As he stepped up to the boggart it cracked once more and in the place of Kinney, there now sat a wheelchair. Kieran froze looking down at it as it slowly began rolling towards him as if blown by a non-existent breeze.  Just as Harriet thought he was going to make a break for it, Kieran pointed his wand at the wheelchair and cried: “ _Riddikulus_!”  
  
The wheelchair stopped and then rocked back on its two large rear wheels. It started to do tricks and wheelies, spinning about the circle of students. Dean actually jumped forward on his own now, without waiting for Professor Lupin.  
  
“My turn!” he shouted and with a crack the wheelchair became a giant, disembodied hand. It scuttled towards Dean like a crab but with a confidant “ _Riddikulus_!” the hand ran into a mouse-trap, flopping around clattering loudly.  
  
“Rachel!” Professor Lupin said.  
  
As with Kieran, Harriet was very sure that Rachel wasn’t going to succeed. The boggart turned into a body. It was the body of a young man, perhaps in his early to mid-twenties. He wore a light tan uniform that Harriet did not recognize. His eyes were wide, blood trickling from his open mouth.  
  
Rachel had frozen. However, it was not just her reaction that caught Harriet’s eye. It was Jackson. He was staring at the dead man on the floor but his eyes were vacant, out of focus.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!”  
  
Harriet returned her attention to Rachel and the boggart. The man who had once been lying clearly dead, had leapt to its feet and was dancing around tauntingly.  
  
“Ha-ha!” the man cried and his grin put Harriet rather in mind of Fred and George. “Got you that time! You so bought it!”  
  
Harriet looked back at Rachel. She had tears in her eyes, but she was very clearly smiling.  
  
“Ronnie, your turn!”  
  
Quite a few people, Harriet included, gave shrieks of fright as Ronnie’s boggart assumed its form. A six-foot tall spider materialized in the middle of the room, hairy and clicking its fangs as it took steps towards Ronnie.  
  
Harriet felt the strong impulse to run forward and grab Ronnie back from the monstrosity but—“ _Riddikulus_!”  
  
There was a skittering sound and Harriet gasped to see the spider was now wearing roller skates on each of its long, spindly legs. Many students laughed as it kept trying to get to its feet but kept flopping on the floor, unable to stand.  
  
“Marcus, your turn!”  
  
Marcus looked confident at first but his face soon changed as the boggart turned into a severe looking woman. She was half a head shorter than Marcus, with short, dirty-blonde hair, and quite rotund. There was also a scent of heavy perfume on the air. She was looking up at him with great disdain and holding out a pill bottle.  
  
“You need to take your medication you nasty little whelp. Spent good money on them to keep you _adjusted_ and now—”  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!” Marcus shouted.  
  
The woman continued to berate him but paused and looked around. There was a hissing noise that Harriet couldn’t locate at first but then gasped looking at the bottle in her pudgy hand. It had turned into a stick of cartoon-style dynamite. The woman’s eyes went wide as the wick burned down all the way. There was a loud bang and the woman disappeared in a cloud of billowing black smoke. It settled on the floor leaving the woman looking frazzled and covered head-to-toe in black soot.  
  
“Jackson! You’re next!”  
  
By the look of things, Jackson had recovered himself. He stepped forward, trying to smile and raising his wand towards the woman who vanished in a loud crack. Everyone looked around. There wasn’t anything to be seen. Harriet blinked. Did that mean Jackson was afraid of nothing? Surely that couldn’t be right, given the look on Jackson’s face when the boggart had turned into who could have only been one of Rachel’s brothers.  
  
Harriet looked at Jackson again to see him once more looking rigid, almost like a statue. He was looking down at the floor and Harriet followed his gaze. There, in the middle of the floor, lay a shiny, black revolver, much like the kind she had seen on the westerns Dudley would watch.  
  
Jackson’s wand clattered to the floor. He first took two steps back, then a step forward as he slowly raised his hand towards the gun.  
  
“No-no,” Professor Lupin said and grabbed Jackson hard by the shoulders, pulling him back from the revolver on the floor. Jackson seemed to come to his senses, looking shocked and ashamed of himself. Everyone seemed distracted by Jackson and no one was paying attention to the boggart anymore. Harriet swallowed and decided to take her turn. She stepped towards the revolver, raising her wand towards it, waiting for it to assume the form of a towering, terrifying, hooded Dementor.  
  
“HERE!” cried Professor Lupin behind her. Harriet felt Professor Lupin brush past her and the boggart was blocked from view but over Professor Lupin’s head she could see a large, silvery orb rising towards the ceiling.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_ ,” Professor Lupin said almost lazily and there was a popping noise and the boggart began to rocket around the room like a balloon with a hole in it. The remainder landed with a flump in the middle of the room.  
  
“Alright Neville, let’s finish it off!”  
  
Neville positively charged forward now. Harriet caught only the briefest glimpse of Professor Snape before Neville pointed his wand and shouted full and loud: “ _Riddikulus_!”  
  
There was another loud crack and Professor Snape was once more wearing the green dress and hat. Neville gave a boisterous “HA!” and the boggart burst into a dark cloud before rocketing back into the wardrobe, the door slamming shut and trembling as if frightened.  
  
The whole class broke out in applause.  
  
“Excellent, Neville! Excellent, everyone!” Professor Lupin said applauding everyone as well. "Let’s see, five points to everyone who tackled the boggart, ten to Neville because he did it twice, and five each to Hermione and Harriet.”  
  
“But, what did we do?” Harriet asked.  
  
“You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class,” Professor Lupin said. “For homework, please read and summarize the chapter in the text on boggarts over the weekend and hand them in to my office on Monday. Good day to you all. Jackson, if you might remain behind so we can have a word?”  
  
The class filed out of the staffroom, talking excitedly. AJ kept stealing nervous glances over her shoulder at Jackson and Professor Lupin, but it didn’t look as though Jackson was in any trouble. Instead Professor Lupin had pulled up chairs for them both and was talking to Jackson in a hushed, fatherly tone.  
  
Harriet wasn’t feeling near as cheerful as the rest of the class. There was no mistaking it; Professor Lupin had deliberately blocked her from facing the boggart. He had said after they arrived at the castle from the Hogwarts Express that Harriet was really strong, hadn’t he? Why would he take her chance to prove herself then?  
  
No one else was paying any attention, which suited Harriet. They were all chatting merrily about their boggarts and how they had defeated them.  
  
“I wonder why Professor Lupin’s afraid of crystal balls, though?” Harriet overheard Lavender ask the group at large.  
  
“Future’s a scary thing maybe?” Dean suggested.  
  
“Either way, that was easily the best Defence Against the Dark Arts class we’ve ever had,” Marcus said. “Bar none.”  
  
“He does seem a very good teacher,” Hermione agreed. “I just wish I could have had a turn too…”  
  
Harriet sighed in agreement. It was then she noticed that one person did seem to be paying her attention. Kieran was giving her a questioning look. Harriet decided she didn’t actually want to talk about what was happening and instead said she needed the rest room.  
  
She diverted into the girls toilets on that floor and again sank onto a seat. As this wasn’t Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, she was quite alone with her thoughts. She was supposed to be The Girl Who Lived, wasn’t she? Someone brave who everyone looked up to. She had faced and survived Lord Voldemort three times now. She had killed a basilisk. Yet somehow this year she could not get a hold of her courage anymore. She felt unsure of herself. Again the face of Sirius Black drifted into her mind, as did the faces of Aunt Marge and Solomon Kinney.  
  
“ _Freak_!” she heard Aunt Marge cry again. Maybe that was it; so much of what had happened had rocked her to her core, had been so personal. The words Aunt Marge had shouted at her had attacked her character in a way no one had ever said before. Even Tom Riddle had been accepting of Harriet’s little fantasies, hadn’t he? Harriet pushed that thought from her mind, and shivered.  
  
Then there was Sirius Black. Since she had joined the magical world, the thought of using the Dark Arts had never occurred to her. The thought of Sirius Black wanting to turn her into another Dark Lord like Voldemort possibly terrified her just as much as the Dementors.  
  
And finally there was Solomon Kinney, who had nearly killed her just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was this more than anything that made her feel the most vulnerable. There were people looking out for her to protect her from people like Sirius Black and Lord Voldemort. Even Professor Dumbledore’s phoenix, Fawkes, had shown up to save Harriet at the last minute from Tom Riddle and his basilisk. But who out there could possibly save her from an attack like Kinney’s? It was the first time in her life that Harriet came to accept one fundamental fact about herself. She really was mortal.  
  
After another couple of minutes, Harriet got to her feet again. She washed her face in the sink, forced a smile back on her face, and left the bathroom to join her friends once more.


	12. Pet Problems

“Passion is the root of all conflict.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“He’s not leading us into the forest, is he?!”  
  
It was the following Monday. They were now in their second Care of Magical Creatures class and once more Hagrid was giving them another ‘surprise.’ However, something about Hagrid’s giddiness seemed to fill Harriet with dread rather than excitement. It was the same giddiness he’d shown when fawning over the baby dragon he had named Norbert.  
  
In spite of this, Harriet was pleased to hear the thinly veiled terror in Malfoy’s voice as Hagrid led them past his hut and towards the trees that marked the edge of the Forbidden Forest. However, instead of going into the forest, Hagrid moved along the edge of the trees, leading them to a small, empty paddock.  
  
“Right then, you all stay here and I’ll go get ‘em,” Hagrid said and headed off into the forest.  
  
“Ugh, I can’t believe that beast is actually a _teacher_ now,” Pansy Parkinson grumbled.  
  
“Can’t your father do something about him, Draco?” Pixie Fanfarró asked in a whiny, pleading voice.  
  
Hermione grunted in disgust.  
  
Dora smirked maliciously. “Bit hard for your dad to do anything about it now isn’t it, Malfoy? Getting sacked as a school governor and all? Fortunately they found a much _better_ person to replace him, didn’t they?”  
  
Most of the Gryffindors laughed, as did Dora’s other Slytherin friends. Malfoy and his cronies glared back. Lavender Brown diffused the situation by giving off a squeal of excitement and pointing in the direction Hagrid had walked. Hagrid was returning, but he wasn’t alone. He was walking with Rachel’s fifth-year friend and fellow refugee, Erica Quoy. Behind them were five of the most bizarre creatures Harriet had ever seen.  
  
Had Harriet seen each half of the creatures individually, she would have found them familiar. The back half was normal enough: the haunches and slender, hoof-footed legs of horses. The front halves were more disconcerting.  
  
Their hair turned to feathers and enormous wings sprouted from their shoulders. Their front legs were not those of horses, but of eagles; covered in thick feathers with scaly feet bearing curved six-inch long talons. The head was the most striking. Instead of horse heads, they had the heads of eagles, with steely-grey beaks and bright orange eyes.  
  
Hagrid and Erica were leading the beasts by a thick leather collars on long chains. Erica had one of them, which had a coat the same grey as a storm cloud, while Hagrid led the others, two chains in each hand. They led the creatures towards the waiting students, most of whom took understandable steps backwards as they approached. They tied the chains to the fence and Hagrid turned beaming down at the class.  
  
“Hippogriffs!” he declared with excitement as he held out a hand to the beasts. “An’ aren’t they beau’iful?”  
  
“I’ll say,” Erica said patting the grey hippogriff’s beak and giving a wave to Rachel. Harriet glanced sideways at Malfoy and couldn’t help but grin to see his face going red and the two other Slytherin boys, Thomas Wright and Damien Mallory giving him dark, knowing looks. Pansy and Pixie were looking at Erica as though she was something unpleasant they had found under their shoes.  
  
“Also class, this is Miss Erica Quoy. I know at least ‘alf of yeh know her already, but she’s got a mind to study magical zoology full time after Hogwarts, and as she ‘as this hour free, I thought it’d be good fer her to get ‘er hand in by helpin’ teach a Care of Magical Creatures class ‘r’two.”  
  
Erica smiled around at them all. “Nice to meet those of you I haven’t yet,” she said warmly and laughed as the grey hippogriff nuzzled under her hand and arm, looking for more petting.  
  
Hagrid laughed and clapped his hands together. “Well then, if yeh’d all step up to the fence here, we can start our lesson.”  
  
Despite how well Erica was getting along with her hippogriff, most of the class held back. Harriet looked around at her friends and they all nodded in unison and led the way closer to the fence.  
  
“Now, first things firs’ with hippogriffs, they are very intelligent and most impor’antly _proud_. They understand English perfectly well even if they can’t speak it. They’re not like Epeius who yeh all met last week, yeh have to pay extra close attention to what a hippogriff’s trying ter tell ya without speakin’,” Hagrid explained. “Which is impor’ant as like I said hippogriffs are right proud creatures and they take offence real easy. This means the las’ thing yeh ever wanna do ter a hippogriff is insult it. Cuz if yeh do, well, it really could be the last thing yeh ever do.”  
  
Harriet swallowed eyeing the hippogriffs. Now she’d gotten over the first shock of their odd, formidable appearance, they were rather attractive creatures. But her eyes did drift up and down from their oversized beaks and their sharp, glinting claws. She made a mental note that if she ever had to get close to a hippogriff to be as polite as she possibly could at all times.  
  
“Hey, you in the back, this stuff’s kind of important,” Erica snapped, distracting Harriet. Everyone turned to see she had been speaking to Malfoy who had hung back from the fence and was whispering with his gang. Clearly they hadn’t been paying attention to Hagrid’s lecture. Zabini, Parkinson and Fanfarro looked disdainful, while Malfoy was doing his best to copy their looks but mostly looked abashed.  
  
“Er right then, well, Erica and Buckbeak here are going ter demonstrate the proper method of approaching a hippogriff, then we’ll have a volunteer from the class, then we’ll split up inter groups to give everyone a chance,” Hagrid said as Erica undid the collar around the grey hippogriff and led it into the middle of the paddock.  
  
“When you approach a hippogriff look it right in the eyes, and be careful not ter blink too much. In a lot of animals this is taken as a sign of aggression but to hippogriffs it shows yer not up ter anything fishy or suspicious.”  
  
As Hagrid spoke, Erica stepped up to the hippogriff named Buckbeak, holding her head high, unblinking.  
  
“The next thing yeh do is bow. Yeh don’t have ter bow too much, mind, just enough so that you are bowin’. Then wait.”  
  
Erica bowed to Buckbeak. Almost the moment she had, Buckbeak bent his feathery knees and lowered his head to the ground in what could only be described as a bow.  
  
“Now, yeh see? Buckbeak bowed. That means he trust yeh and you can approach him. It’s still not advisable to make sudden moves around him and like I said, never insult ‘im. Now, that one was easy enough as Buckbeak already trusts Erica, so who’d like ter volunteer for their own go with him?”  
  
Most of the class took a step backwards in response. Harriet glanced towards the other hippogriffs again. While Buckbeak now seemed fairly calm, the others were all shuffling and flexing their wings in agitation at being tethered. Again her eyes drifted to their giant claws and hooked beaks.  
  
“I’ll do it, Hagrid,” came Marcus’ voice. Harriet looked around just in time to see him climbing over the fence.  
  
“Good boy, Marcus” Hagrid said looking encouraged.  
  
Erica smiled and stepped back from Buckbeak. Harriet held her breath in spite of herself. By the looks of it, so was most everyone else in the class. As Harriet watched, Marcus held his head high and stepped up to Buckbeak. The beast towered over him, and turned its head from side to side to get a better look. Then Marcus bowed, and Harriet felt her insides clench seeing one of her best friends exposing his back and neck to such a large beak.  
  
However, her worries were unfounded. Just as Buckbeak had with Erica, he bowed again to Marcus. Marcus rose, grinning ear to ear as the class broke into applause. At least most of the class; Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, Parkison and Fanfarro were the only abstentions.  
  
“Go on then, you can pet his beak if you like,” Hagrid said.  
  
Marcus nodded slowly and reached up a hand towards Buckbeak’s head. “You have such a gorgeous coat,” he said just loud enough to be heard as he stroked his hand up the hippogriff’s large beak.  
  
Buckbeak closed his eyes and gave a faint twitter, clearly enjoying the attention. Harriet wanted to think that Marcus had only said that in response to what Hagrid had said about being polite to hippogriffs, but the more she took Buckbeak in, the more she had to admit he was a very handsome animal.  
  
“Alright then, Marcus, you know, he might let yeh ride ‘im now,” Hagrid said cheerfully. At this thought however, Marcus’ face fell rapidly. That was clearly more than he’d bargained for.  
  
“Climb up just behind his wing-joint there, and mind his feathers, he wouldn’t like yeh pullin’ any of them out.”  
  
Marcus awkwardly climbed onto Buckbeak’s back. He was looking around Buckbeak’s neck apparently trying to find somewhere to hold on that wasn’t covered in feathers.  
  
He didn’t get time to find one before Hagrid gave a boisterous “Giddy up there!” and swatted Buckbeak’s hindquarters. The hippogriff gave a squawk of surprise and his wings finally unfolded. They were enormous; each one was slightly longer than Hagrid was tall. The overall spread had to be nearly thirty feet from wing-tip to wing-tip.  
  
Harriet had one last fleeting glimpse of Marcus’ astonished face when Buckbeak gave a mighty bound and with one flap of his massive wings he shot off into the air. The class all gasped in astonishment as the hippogriff swooped low over their heads, trying to gain altitude.  
  
Despite her love of flying, Harriet didn’t feel particularly envious of Marcus. He was clutching his arms around Buckbeak's neck as best he could and was rising and falling awkwardly from the beating of his enormous wings. Harriet decided she would much prefer her broomstick to hippogriffs when it came to air travel.  
  
Buckbeak circled the paddock once before turning in and swooping down towards them once more. He looked as though he was going to plough into them but he flared his wings and thudded to a halt on the ground. His big talons dug into the ground stopping him dead in his tracks, though Marcus was nearly thrown off from the sudden stop.  
  
The class all cheered and applauded as Marcus slid off awkwardly. Despite his apprehension, he was now beaming ear to ear and gave Buckbeak’s neck a few gentle strokes, going with the grain of his feathers.  
  
“Well done, Marcus! Right then, let’s all climb on in the paddock here and see how yeh all get on with the rest?” Hagrid said to the class as Erica undid the rest of the collars on the other hippogriffs.  
  
Harriet climbed into the paddock with the rest of the class. After Marcus’ success, everyone seemed much more eager to try their hands with the hippogriffs. Harriet and her friends wound up with the chestnut coloured hippogriff. It had bowed readily to Harriet and cooed as Buckbeak had when she stroked its beak. Its feathers were large and courser than she had expected, but despite the fearsome appearance, there really didn’t seem to be much to worry about with the hippogriffs after all.  
  
After her turn, Harriet turned her attention to the rest of the class. Neville was trying to bow to his hippogriff, but kept backing away quickly as the hippogriff didn’t seem to be inclined to bow back. She smiled softly as she watched Basheera step up with Neville and they both bowed together. Finally, the hippogriff bowed, and Neville flushed muttering an inaudible thank you to Basheera as he finally began to pet the hippogriff.  
  
Harriet then turned her attention back to Buckbeak. Malfoy and his cronies had quickly taken Buckbeak over. Malfoy stepped up to the hippogriff and bowed. Harriet hoped silently that Buckbeak wouldn’t bow to him, but was disappointed as the hippogriff bent his knees and lowered his head.  
  
“Well that was easy,” Malfoy drawled, speaking in an overly loud voice, clearly wanting to be overheard. “It can’t have been that difficult if Van De Lakk could do it, don’t you agree Blaise?”  
  
“But of course,” Blaise agreed.  
  
“Yes, I bet you’re not dangerous in the least are you, you great ugly brute?”  
  
It happened so fast Harriet didn’t even see it. One moment Malfoy was standing, petting Buckbeak’s head, the next he was on the ground, crying in shock and pain. Above him, Buckbeak was reared back on his hind legs, his talons flashing and his wings and feathers flared, shrieking.  
  
Hagrid reacted in an instant, grabbing Buckbeak from behind and pulling him back away from Malfoy. Erica meanwhile grabbed Malfoy by the shoulders of his robes and pulled him back away from the raging hippogriff. The class largely panicked and ran for it, hurdling the paddock fence. With the exception of Malfoy and Dora, only Gryffindors remained inside the fence. Kieran was moving as quickly as he could to Malfoy who was still crying out in pain.  
  
“I’m dying! It’s killed me! I’m bleeding to death!”  
  
“Let me see it!” Kieran said insistently trying to get Draco’s arm. As he did, he moved aside just long enough for Harriet to get a glimpse of Draco’s wound. The wound did look horrible; a long gash along the length of the top of his forearm that was bleeding profusely.  
  
“You’re not dying,” Kieran said in a calming voice. “Clean cut, Madame Pomfrey—”  
  
“Nobody asked you, cripple!” Malfoy spat between cries of pain.  
  
Harriet felt all her sympathy for Malfoy vanish as quickly as Buckbeak had attacked. How dare he? How dare he say that to Kieran who was only trying to help him? Kieran however didn’t react. He just kept trying to get to Malfoy’s arm, however, he didn’t get the chance by the time Hagrid rushed over and scooped up Malfoy in his arms. He ran towards the school, so tall he didn’t even break his stride as he stepped over the fence. Erica was refitting the hippogriffs to their collars and leashes. Buckbeak was calm once more, now that Malfoy was gone, and let Erica put his collar back on as if nothing had happened.  
  
Kieran stared blankly at the spot where Malfoy had been laying. No one else seemed to notice as the class began making its way up to the school, but Harriet did. She crossed over to him and gently put a hand under his arm. Using his walking stick Kieran pushed himself up with Harriet’s help and they all started to make their way back up the hill towards the castle. She didn’t say anything; she knew exactly why the word had wounded Kieran, though he had tried not to show it.  
  
Ahead of them, most of the Slytherins were in a rage, shouting abuses at Hagrid’s retreating back. Harriet was pleased to see that Malfoy’s remark to Kieran had not gone unnoticed and they were hurling their own insults back.  
  
“Oh shut up the lot of you,” Dean Thomas called after the Slytherins. “It was all Malfoy’s fault and you know it!”  
  
“Yeah, and calling the one guy trying to help him a ‘cripple,’ what a class act he is!” Jackson shouted.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles in a threatening way, though Dean and Jackson hardly looked abashed.  
  
“He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” Hermione asked anxiously, wringing her hands.  
  
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Kieran muttered. Harriet hugged his arm tighter trying to comfort him.  
  
Ronnie sighed. “Well, leave it to Malfoy. If anyone could screw up Hagrid’s class that badly, it was him…”  
  
They went inside and made their way to the common room. Harriet passed the time playing Exploding Snap with Marcus. Hermione was reading her Ancient Runes textbook. Ronnie was cleaning her football boots, while Kieran was staring blankly into the fire. The story of what had happened had spread through the house at the usual wildfire pace that rumours spread through Hogwarts and most everyone was looking sullen and worried.  
  
The most sullen and worried was Erica. She was sitting in a corner with Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Rachel.  
  
“I should have been over there keeping an eye on him,” she said miserably.  
  
“Oh don’t say that,” Rachel admonished gently, hugging Erica around her shoulders, which was a feat, considering Erica stood a whole head taller than Rachel.  
  
“I knew he wasn’t paying attention to a damn thing Hagrid was saying,” Erica went on as if Rachel hadn’t spoken.  
  
“Erica, it’s going to be fine,” Angelina said hugging Erica from the other side. “It’s no good blaming yourself for another git’s stupidity.”  
  
“But what if they fire him?!” Erica asked, looking stricken. “Hagrid could lose his job, and Buckbeak could be put down! I should have been over there! Beaky’s not even the proudest or most aggressive of the flock!”  
  
Harriet grimaced and gave significant looks to Hermione and Ronnie. They nodded and went over too to join in the conversation. Harriet did feel a little better for it. She had been jealous of Erica much of last year over her friendship with Hagrid, but her attitude had begun to change after Erica called her out on the jealousy, and seeing Erica’s own distress over Hagrid’s arrest.  
  
That night at dinner, Harriet couldn’t eat. She kept glancing towards the staff table, where Hagrid’s absence was painfully obvious.  
  
“We should go see him,” Dora said at random.  
  
“What, now?” Hermione asked, looking at her watch.  
  
“Yeah, before it gets dark,” Dora replied.  
  
Hermione continued to look apprehensive.  
  
“I’ll go with you,” Erica said, having clearly overheard them.  
  
“Well, at least it’ll be group of us,” Hermione said, though she still sounded reluctant.  
  
They rose and began making their way towards the Entrance Hall. They had just reached the front doors when a voice spoke up behind them.  
  
“And just where do you think you’re all going?”  
  
They turned as one and saw Professor Stratton striding towards them. He did not look angry, or even suspicious. They all exchanged glances before Erica cleared her throat.  
  
“I’m sorry, Professor, it’s my fault, I wanted to go see Professor Hagrid after what happened today and—”  
  
“Quoy, Quoy, it’s alright,” Professor Stratton said, holding up a hand to cut her off. “An admirable sentiment, but students are no longer allowed out at this time of night without supervision.”  
  
Harriet looked away, fighting off a glare. Sirius Black hadn’t got this far, had he? However, almost as though he read her mind, Professor Stratton went on.  
  
“It is a rather dangerous time right now. Sirius Black has been reported sighted within two hours of Hogwarts, and Solomon Kinney remains at large. Furthermore the Dementors still patrol the borders but there is no guarantee they will remain there if offered an opportunity.”  
  
Harriet hung her head, Dora was looking mutinous and Hermione was giving everyone her usual look of ‘I told you so.’  
  
“Okay, Professor,” Kieran said reasonably. “Come on guys, we can see him in the morning.”  
  
Professor Stratton looked perplexed. “What on earth do you mean, O’Brien?”  
  
“Well, you said we’re not allowed out unsupervised,” Marcus said. Inexplicably, Erica beamed.  
  
Professor Stratton smiled in response. “Yes, you’re not allowed out… _unsupervised_ ,” he said. “However, it would appear as though you are going to be supervised, doesn’t it?”  
  
It took a second but Harriet beamed as the light clicked in her head. Professor Stratton’s smile grew and he strode past them, opening the door. The group of students grinned to each other and followed after him as he led them down across the grounds towards Hagrid’s hut. Despite his warnings of Black, Kinney and the Dementors, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that Professor Stratton didn’t seem all that cautious as he led them.  
  
Hagrid didn’t answer right away when they knocked on the door. Fang, Hagrid’s pet boarhound, barked in greeting and Professor Stratton knocked once more.  
  
“C’min,” Hagrid finally croaked and Professor Stratton opened the door and ushered the students in before him.  
  
It only took one look at Hagrid to know he had been drinking. He was sitting at his table, Fang’s head in his lap and a bucket sized pewter tankard in his hand. He squinted as he took them in.  
  
He turned a bleary eye up to Professor Stratton. “’Spect I just set a record, eh Des? Don’t think they’ve never ‘ad a teacher last just a week b’fore.”  
  
Professor Stratton scoffed. “Oh come off it, you great oaf,” he chuckled. “You’re not being sacked and you know it.”  
  
Hagrid grumbled looking into his tankard. “Yeah right, only a matter of time after Malfoy…”  
  
“Is… is he alright…?” Hermione asked in a tiny voice.  
  
Hagrid shrugged. “Madame Pomfrey and Miss Momori said they fixed him up best they could, but he still says ‘e’s in agony, moaning and all that.”  
  
“He’s faking,” Kieran growled. “I saw that cut, it was perfectly clean, and Madame Pomfrey and Miss Momori have strong enough potions to cure any infection.”  
  
“If he can live through having all the bones in his arm regrown, I’m sure he can live through a bad cut,” Harriet said crossing her arms and sitting at the table opposite Hagrid.  
  
“School gove’nors been called and all,” Hagrid said. This created an awkward moment, as Dora’s father had become a school governor after the ousting of Draco’s father at the start of last summer.  
  
“What… what did they say…?” Dora whispered.  
  
“Jus’ said I started too big, shoulda kept on the path I was with creachers like Epeius… just thought they were a good stepping stone, not all that diff’r’nt after all, being ‘alf horses… all my fault—”  
  
“It’s all Malfoy’s fault!” Harriet insisted.  
  
“Yeah, you told us all hippogriffs attack if insulted, it’s his fault he wasn’t listening,” Marcus chimed in.  
  
“Erica even told him to listen up,” Dora added, reassured. “I’ll write to Dad and tell him the whole story, don’t worry Hagrid.”  
  
Hagrid became overcome with emotion at that point and slumped forward on his table. Professor Stratton sighed.  
  
“Alright, think you’ve had quite enough there, Rubeus,” Professor Stratton said. “Come on, up with you.”  
  
With surprising strength that left Harriet’s mouth open, Professor Stratton hooked an arm under Hagrid’s and hoisted him to his feet. He hooked Hagrid’s arm over his shoulder and helped him outside. Hermione picked up the oversized tankard and followed them out: there was a loud splash and Hermione came back inside.  
  
“What was that splash?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Professor Stratton stuck Hagrid’s head in the water barrel,” Hermione said simply, putting the tankard on the shelf.  
  
Half a minute later Hagrid and Professor Stratton returned.  
  
“Ah, tha’s better,” Hagrid said wiping the water from his face. “Really, thank you lot for comin’ to see me, it means a lot.”  
  
“Always, Hagrid,” Harriet said smiling.  
  
“An’ thanks for comin’ with ‘em,” Hagrid said to Professor Stratton.  
  
Professor Stratton laughed. “Well I certainly wasn’t going to stop them, so I figured I might as well be a facilitator,” He said with a little wink at the students.  
  


### * * * *

  
As September wore on, the changes in staff were beginning to show. It took very little time for Defence Against the Dark Arts to become most people’s favourite class. From Boggarts they turned to Red Caps, wicked little goblin-ish beings who lived in dungeons and old battlefields, waiting to attack intruders.  
  
After Red Caps they studied Kappas, which lived in the rivers of northern Japan, and often targeted wading children in their rivers.  
  
The second most loved class was easily History of Magic. Professor Stratton had turned their classroom into a model Greek temple. Great pillars lined the room from floor to ceiling, and Professor Stratton himself had turned his chair into a throne and wore a fake beard and laurel crown. He had even let the students pick their own Greek gods to represent.  
  
Hermione predictably was first, and immediately picked Athena. Dean and Seamus picked Dionysus and Hades respectively. Parvati and Lavender picked Hera and Aphrodite. Marcus went abstract with Morpheus, the god of dreams. Basheera picked Hestia, while AJ picked Demeter. Rachel picked Artemis, Jackson picked Poseidon, and Ronnie picked Nike. This left Harriet, Kieran, Neville and Tori unable to decide.  
  
“Hmmm,” Professor Stratton muttered taking them in thoughtfully. “O’Brien… for you, I believe the choice is clear.”  
  
Kieran sighed. “Yeah, I guess it is.”  
  
Professor Stratton frowned. “Why so glum? I thought being Hermes would be a great honour?”  
  
Kieran blinked in surprise. “H-Hermes, but I thought—”  
  
“Yes?” Professor Stratton asked with a quelling tone.  
  
“Nothing sir,” Kieran replied, though Harriet was sure she saw the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.  
  
“Hoffman, I hereby decree thou art Eumonia, the goddess of good order and lawfulness.”  
  
Tori blushed but smiled and nodded. Professor Stratton then turned to Harriet.  
  
“And you, Potter, I believe the best choice for you would be Eirene.”  
  
“Irene?” Harriet asked, perplexed  
  
Professor Stratton laughed jovial. “Yes, Potter. _Eirene_ , the goddess of _peace_.”  
  
Harriet smiled and nodded. _I could probably use some peace right about now_ , she thought, _and in the future too come to think of it…_  
  
Professor Stratton turned to Neville. “And you, Longbottom. I grant the role of none-other than Apollo himself.”  
  
Neville’s eyes went wide, as did Parvati and Lavender’s.  
  
“Neville? Apollo?!” Lavender asked sounding shocked.  
  
Professor Stratton’s eyes narrowed. “Dost thou question almighty Zeus? Let alone question your professor?”  
  
Lavender blushed and shook her head.  
  
“Good, now then, our court is spoken for. Let class begin!”  
  
The trend did not continue in other classes. Professor Snape was being horrible as ever in Potions, and everyone knew why. The tale of Neville’s Boggart and subsequently making it wear a dress had swept through the school. In certain circles, “Madame Snape” became a common pseudonym for the Potions Master.  
  
His animosity was largely, and predictably, directed towards Neville. When Malfoy returned to class the following Thursday, his arm still in a sling, Professor Snape all but made Neville into Malfoy’s personal servant. This was even worse for Neville, as this now meant he was largely responsible for both his own potions work, and Malfoy’s.  
  
Divination was also far from enjoyable. Professor Trelawney continued a stream of foul predictions of Harriet’s future, which were branching out beyond the Grim. Every ‘sign’ that Professor Trelawney saw seemed to miraculously turn itself into an omen of coming doom for Harriet.  
  
This was made even worse for Harriet by Parvati and Lavender who kept the dark mood going outside of class. The pair seemed to almost worship Professor Trelawney, and frequently visited her during free hours. Afterwards, they would return to the common room looking smug and all-knowing. Furthermore, they would only address Harriet in hushed, sympathetic voices, as though she were dying of some incurable disease.  
  
Even Care of Magical Creatures had lost much of its fun. Hagrid had stopped bringing Erica to class. Erica said it was because the governors had thought having a student help teach a class such as Care of Magical Creatures had been a mistake and possibly contributed to the incident. Dora continued to insist that her father had nothing to do with the decision, though that did not keep Ronnie from grumbling about her father when Dora wasn’t around.  
  
Instead of more interesting creatures like hippogriffs and Areions, they were now studying flobberworms, which were nothing more than oversized earthworms with gaping, jawless mouths that did nothing but lie around and eat any plant-matter their mouths came in contact with. Even if this was perhaps safer than other creatures, Harriet had to admit, it was deathly boring.  
  
While Defence Against the Dark Arts was fun and interesting, there were occasional lulls. In the last week of September, Professor Lupin fell ill and so instead of dealing with another interesting magical creature, they simply read and made notes on the chapter on dugbogs, a bog-dwelling creature that resembled dead-wood when stationary but with clawed, webbed hands and feet they would use to attack the ankles of human invaders of their marshes.  
  
Outside of the classes, September did yield two events that filled Harriet with joy. The first was Hermione’s birthday on the 19th, followed by Marcus’ on the 27th. As the birthdays were so close together, they held a joint party for both of them in the third year boys’ dormitory. While this was usually frowned upon by Percy, Hermione had the idea of going first to Professor McGonagall, who agreed, provided there was a prefect present to monitor the situation.  
  
Harriet’s one beacon of hope for a good year in this time was the start of the Quidditch season. The captain of Harriet’s Quidditch team, Oliver Wood, was a burly, handsome seventh year for whom Harriet harboured a small (though not entirely secret) fancy.  
  
There were seven positions on a Quidditch team. Harriet played the Seeker, the most difficult position, as it was her job to catch the tiny, fast, and very manoeuvrable Golden Snitch, which ended the game and awarded the successful Seeker’s team one-hundred fifty points. There were three Chasers, who were tasked with putting the Quaffle (a large red ball, about the size of a football) through one of the three hoops on the opposing teams end. Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell were the chasers on the Gryffindor team. Fred and George were the team’s two Beaters, who used wooden clubs to keep the malicious black balls known as Bludgers away from their teammates. Finally there was the Keeper, who defended their team’s hoop form the opposing team’s Chasers.  
  
Wood called their first meeting on a quiet Thursday evening in early October. He looked even more manic than usual, and he left them in little doubt why.  
  
“Alright everyone, this is it, our last chance,” he said as he paced the locker room in front of them. “The last chance for all of us, together, to win the Cup. We’ve been a team for three years now, and honestly the best team I’ve ever seen as far as talent goes.”  
  
He paused and turned to them looking downcast. “But we definitely have the worst luck ever, no denying that. But we can’t let that stop us this year. It’s my last year, I’m graduating after this, we’ll never get another chance together if we don’t pull it off this year.”  
  
“We can do it, Oliver,” Katie said, trying to sound encouraging.  
  
“Eight times lucky?” Fred said, giving Katie a teasing smile though dropping it as Wood gave him a dark look.  
  
“We _can_ do it; we’re the best team in the school bar none. Angelina, Alicia, Katie, you three fly like a single person. Fred, George, you two are without a doubt the best beaters I’ve ever seen. Which is fitting, as I’ve said before, you two are probably the only things on the pitch more dangerous than the bludgers,” Wood said sternly.  
  
“Well, can’t say farer than that,” George admitted, grinning.  
  
“And Harriet, you’re the most natural seeker I have ever seen,” Wood went on turning his attention on Harriet. As usual when Wood praised her, Harriet felt her stomach flutter.  
  
“Oy, don’t forget yourself there, Wood. If we’ve ever had a better Keeper, I’ll eat a flobberworm,” George said.  
  
Fred scoffed. “Oh come on, anyone can eat a flobberworm, they just take a little ketchup. Now if you were gonna propose eating _Hagrid_ , that would—”  
  
“The point is,” Wood went on. “I took a big gamble when I took over as captain. I put my chips on a younger team. I knew it may cost us the Cup for a year or two, but I knew it would pay off in the long-run for Gryffindor house with a very strong, experienced side in a few years’ time. And that would create a good base for bringing on new players later after I’m gone. Well, that has already come to pass. We’re the best any Hogwarts house could ever ask for. And this year is _our year_.”  
  
Harriet glanced around the team. Even Fred and George were looking serious now. She smiled to herself. If there was one thing she knew, Fred and George were able to accomplish anything they put their minds to, and if Wood had finally put their minds into winning the Quidditch Cup at long last, it had to be in the bag.  
  
On top of Fred and George’s new enthusiasm, there was also the fact that Wood scheduled practice sessions three nights a week now. While this was good news for the team, it was not very good news for Harriet’s homework, which was beginning to pile up as September and October wore on. It was worse for Hermione, however, who worked well into every night finishing all her homework for all the classes she was taking. What was more vexing for everyone else on the other hand was the slowly spreading rumours of Hermione being in multiple classes at the same time. Harriet had bigger issues on her plate, coupled with the fact that was plainly impossible, Harriet paid little attention and busied herself with more difficult homework and Quidditch practices.  
  
The thing that raised Harriet’s spirits the most happened on the night of October 11th, when Harriet climbed wearily through the portrait hole after a very long, very wet Quidditch practice. The whole common room was buzzing with excitement.  
  
“What’s the fuss?” Harriet asked Kieran who had come over to greet her.  
  
“First Hogsmeade weekend just got announced,” he replied, pointing at the notice board.  
  
Harriet felt her excitement grow and her tiredness ebb away as she made her way to the notice board. Sure enough there was the notice, declaring the first Hogsmeade trip would fall on Halloween of that year.  
  
“I can’t wait!” Ronnie said eagerly, having come over to greet Harriet as well. “We’ll finally get to see inside Honeydukes and Zonkos!”  
  
“And just what would _you_ be needing from Zonkos, little sis?” George asked as he walked up behind them. Ronnie stuck out her tongue at him but he ignored her.  
  
“Or you little Miss Potter?” Fred asked, ruffling Harriet’s hair. Harriet grumbled trying to straighten her hair out again.  
  
“Funny, I think they can go to anywhere they want in Hogsmeade because they’re old enough, girl or not, don’t you Alicia?” Angelina asked in a voice brimming with barely concealed disapproval.  
  
“Definitely,” Alicia said. “You agree, Erica?”  
  
“One hundred percent,” Erica added.  
  
George swallowed. Harriet had learned very quickly last year that there was only two things that could get George to ‘behave’: the level of his mother’s anger, and how much Erica approved of their hijinks. Erica gave George a smirk but then paused and looked at the noticeboard just to the right of the Hogsmeade notice. “What’s this?”  
  
Harriet looked. There was something there she hadn’t noticed at first, but she recognized the writing too well. It had been posted by Marcus.  
  
  


**_HOUSE ATHLETICS!_ **

_Fleet footed but not much of a flyer?_

_Athletically inclined but wish more than seven students could participate?_

_Then come to our informational meeting on the creation of alternative house athletic teams, to pitch different sports ideas this Saturday!_

_List of possible sport ideas:_

_Football (Soccer)_

_Cricket_

_Rugby_

_Tennis_

_Basketball_

_Martial Arts_

  
  
“Wow, that’s forward thinking of him,” Harriet said, smiling and looking around for Marcus.  
  
“Ohmigosh, no way,” Ginny’s fellow second-year friend, who harboured a not-so-tiny fangirl crush on Ronnie, Rayne Prismere said as she looked at the notice. “That is so _awesome_ omigosh, Ronnie did you see this?!”  
  
“Yeah kiddo,” Ronnie said laughing. “I helped with the ideas.”  
  
“That she did,” Marcus said jovially as he joined them. “Been thinking about it all summer and just finally said ‘heck with it’ and put it up. Just see who’s interested and all that.”  
  
“Hmmmmm, it is a pretty good list, some sports are missing though,” came Hermione’s voice.  
  
Marcus turned to look at her. She was studying the list closely, frowning at the bottom.  
  
“’Missing?’ Just what would you know about sports of any kind, Hermione?” Fred asked, scoffing.  
  
Hermione glared at him. “Well, I just thought lacrosse would be a good addition…”  
  
“La-what?” George asked.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and stomped off to her bag and returned with a book. She handed it to Fred and George who started to read it while Harriet leaned in. It was a book of lacrosse plays and tactics. Fred and George flipped through it with bemused expressions but Harriet narrowed her eyes and gave Hermione a shrewd look. Hermione’s cheeks went a little pink and she seemed to be trying to ignore Harriet’s eyes.  
  
“So, it’s a sport with a bunch of girls running about a pitch, bumping into each other, getting hot and sweaty…?” Fred asked as he flipped pages.  
  
“Not _just_ girls,” Hermione retorted, going very pink.  
  
“Wearing tight shirts, little skirts and knee-high socks…?” George added as if Hermione hadn’t spoken.  
  
Hermione flushed even brighter and opened her mouth to protest this assessment but was drowned out by Fred and George’s synchronized declaration: “THIS IS THE BEST SPORT EVER!”  
  
“What the devil are you two shouting about?” said Percy as he approached the group.  
  
“What’s it to you?” Fred asked, his playful teasing demeanour being immediately replaced by a distinct coolness.  
  
“Our common room too, isn’t it?” George said darkly.  
  
“Yes, but people are _trying_ to study,” Percy grumbled and looked on the board. “And what’s this?” he asked pulling down Marcus’ notice.  
  
“Hey!” Marcus protested. “That’s mine, put it back up.”  
  
“Excuse me?” Percy said in a tone that reminded Harriet forcibly of Professor Snape at his most dangerous, “did you just give me, the _Head Boy_ , an order, Van De Lakk?”  
  
Marcus glared, chewing his tongue.  
  
“This was not properly marked as a notice, Van De Lakk; furthermore, all clubs have to be organized through Professor McGonagall as deputy headmistress.”  
  
“But it wasn’t actually starting anything, it was just to be a get together to see if anyone would be interested, and if they were what sports they would want,” Marcus retorted.  
  
“All the same. Please use the _proper_ channels before posting a notice. That is all,” Percy said before heading off out of the portrait hole.  
  
“Coward,” Fred said, gripping his broomstick handle so hard it actually creaked. “Ducking out to make sure he had the last word. Sorry about him, Marcus ol’ mate, it is a good idea.”  
  
“Yeah, it would be good to see a bit more student activity around here,” George agreed.  
  
“Why, so you can ogle?” Angelina said coolly.  
  
Fred rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, we tease you lot _constantly_ , how is this still a surprise?”  
  
“Fair enough,” Angelina agreed, dropping her icy look and laughing. The fifth-years headed off for the seats by the fireplace and Harriet took Hermione’s arm in hers and rather forcibly marched her away from her homework to a less crowded area. Something that had been puzzling her since the trip to Diagon Alley suddenly made a lot more sense.  
  
“Lacrosse, huh?” Harriet asked.  
  
“I, well, I just was studying it out of interest, you know, the history of the sport and such—”  
  
“From a _play_ book?”  
  
“Well, the history of the plays,” Hermione said, starting to lose her would-be casual act.  
  
“Uh-huh,” Harriet said, smiling in a way that was at once approving and accusing. “Why the act? I think it’s great! What got you thinking about it?”  
  
Hermione sighed. “It was my cousin this summer when we visited her family in France. She and her friends were playing and they had me join in… it was… _exhilarating_! I just couldn’t stop! Coming up with plans and plays, working out fitness routines to stay in the best shape, it’s… it’s surprisingly academic,” Hermione said before she glowered and stole a glance towards Ronnie who was now sitting with Marcus working on a new flyer. “And I’ve kept quiet about it because of _her_ …”  
  
Harriet raised her eyebrows. She knew Hermione and Ronnie didn’t get on quite as well as her other friends, but the venom with which Hermione said ‘her’ took Harriet quite aback.  
  
“Because of Ronnie?”  
  
“Yes!” Hermione hissed. “She’ll just tease me, ‘oh Hermione, the big bookworm’s taken up sport, ha-ha-ha,’” Hermione went on hugging her chest and scowling.  
  
“No she wouldn’t,” Harriet retorted. She opened her mouth to argue her case more when Ronnie cried out in shock.  
  
There was a flurry of activity and something orange was swinging through the air wildly. At first Harriet thought it was Ronnie’s hair but soon realized it was in fact Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, being flung about the air. Crookshanks was clinging to Ronnie’s bag, hissing and spitting as Ronnie tried to shake him off. With a squeak, Scabbers went flying out of the bag and landed with a thud almost at Harriet’s feet. He made a dash for a cupboard but Harriet was too quick for him, snatching him up from the floor just in time as Crookshanks went skidding past.  
  
“That thing is a monster!” Ronnie shouted running over and taking Scabbers from Harriet while Hermione picked up Crookshanks.  
  
“He is _not_ a monster!” Hermione snapped, hugging Crookshanks tight as the cat growled, still staring at Scabbers. “He’s just a cat! And all cats chase rats!”  
  
“Not like this! This is the sixth time since the start of term! There’s plenty of mice around this school but the only one that mad cat’s after is Scabbers!” Ronnie shouted.  
  
“You don’t know he doesn’t go after other rodents around the school!” Hermione retorted. “And well he… he might just sense that Scabbers is an older rat, and—”  
  
“Don’t call Scabbers old!” Ronnie snapped stuffing the trembling rat into her bag again. She looked down at Crookshanks with deep dislike but also a shrewd expression. “There’s something weird about that cat,” she went on. “I had just told Marcus to be careful with my bag because Scabbers was in it… and not a minute later that cat came out of nowhere…”  
  
“That’s… that’s true…” Marcus said, studying Crookshanks with interest. “Maybe Scott’s right about him being part Kneazle…?”  
  
“Well, even if he is, it’s still just nature,” Hermione said. She was trying to keep her dignified tone, but Harriet caught a slight break in her voice.  
  
“Not with that cat,” Ronnie growled and turned towards the girls’ dormitories. “And in case you’ve forgotten, Scabbers was here _first_ …” she snapped and stomped off without another word.


	13. Hogsmeade

“There is no limit to what mankind can accomplish when it puts its mind to something out of pure desperation.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
Unfortunately, Hermione’s problems with her housemates’ pets did not end with the continued debacle between Crookshanks and Scabbers. Ronnie was barely speaking to Hermione, reserving talking to her only in Herbology if she needed Hermione to hand her something. The troubles compounded four days later with Lavender Brown. Harriet and her friends arrived at that day’s Transfiguration lesson to see a small group huddled around the door.  
  
As they neared and saw that Lavender was sitting on a bench with Parvati, who had her arm around Lavender’s shoulder. By the looks of it, Lavender was crying hysterically. Dean, Seamus, Basheera and Neville were all crowded around her offering support. Tori, AJ and Rachel were standing off to the side, muttering.  
  
“What’s wrong, Lav?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“She just got a letter from home,” Basheera began to explain in a solemn voice. “Her pet rabbit, Binky, has just been killed by a fox.”  
  
“Oh, Lavender, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Hermione said softly.  
  
Lavender gave a huge sniff. “I should have known,” she said miserably, “you know what day it is?”  
  
“Uh, Friday?” Marcus suggested.  
  
“The _Fifteenth of October_!” Lavender wailed. “She was right!”  
  
“Who was right?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Trelawney,” Rachel whispered in her ear as she rolled her eyes.  
  
“ _That thing you’re dreading_ ,” Lavender went on, wailing louder. “ _It will happen on the Fifteenth of October_! Oh Binky!”  
  
Hermione and Parvati both grimaced in protest to the volume of Lavender’s cries.  
  
“Oh Lavender, it is alright,” Basheera consoled. “I’m sure he lived a good life—”  
  
“He was only a baby!” Lavender carried on miserably.  
  
Hermione looked puzzled now. “But, if he was only a baby, why would you dread him dying? Are there often fox attacks in your area?”  
  
“No, we live in town!” Lavender replied miserably.  
  
“Well, really Lavender, if you look at it log—”  
  
“Oh give it a rest would you?” Ronnie snapped. “We all know you hate Trelawney. You don’t have to hijack Lavender’s dead pet to prove your point.”  
  
Hermione looked at once wounded and very angry. Half the class looked angry at Hermione, the other at Ronnie. Fortunately, the situation was diffused when Professor McGonagall swung the door open.  
  
“What on earth is going on out here?” She demanded looking around.  
  
The class looked around, wondering who was going to speak first.  
  
This time, it was Tori. “Lavender’s upset because she just found out her pet rabbit, Binky, was killed by a fox,” she explained.  
  
“And Hermione tried to use it as an excuse to attack Professor Trelawney,” Ronnie jabbed.  
  
Professor McGonagall gave an exasperated sigh and rubbed her eyes. “Miss Brown, pull yourself together, rabbits get eaten by foxes every day across the globe. Miss Granger, a classmate’s misery is not an excuse, however correct you may be, to champion any cause. Miss Weasley, I’m not entirely sure what your issue with Miss Granger is but you don’t need to fan the flames by further using this unfortunate circumstance to attack Granger, is that understood?” she asked looking between the three girls.  
  
Ronnie and Hermione gave each other grudging glares while Lavender gave a few deep sniffs, trying to calm herself.  
  
“Very well then, inside all of you,” Professor McGonagall said and led them into the room. When they took their seats, Hermione went to sit with AJ, Rachel and Tori while Ronnie went to sit with Parvati, Lavender, Dean and Seamus. Their usual places in Harriet’s group of friends were now taken by Neville and Basheera.  
  
Harriet had a hard time focusing throughout the class. She kept stealing glances at Ronnie and Hermione feeling a little frustrated with both. They had never got on as well as the rest, but this was starting to get ridiculous. However, the unpleasantness seemed to be driven from everyone’s minds by Professor McGonagall’s announcement at the end of class.  
  
“Before you go, I have an announcement. As your head of house, and with the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, please turn all Hogsmeade permission forms in to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don’t forget!”  
  
“Uh Professor,” Neville said putting up his hand. “I think I lost—”  
  
“Your grandmother has already sent your form to me directly, Longbottom,” Professor McGonagall said in an ever-suffering tone. “She seemed to think it was safer.”  
  
Instantly the class was buzzing excitedly. Ronnie and Hermione both hurried over and they all made their way up to Gryffindor Tower to retrieve their forms.  
  
“You know, I nearly didn’t get to go,” Harriet said as they climbed the stairs.  
  
“Why not?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“I’d… I’d made a bet with my Uncle that if I behaved ‘properly’ while Aunt Marge was visiting he’d sign my form.”  
  
“Hmmm, somehow I think inflating her like a balloon would have violated that agreement,” Marcus chuckled.  
  
Harriet rolled her eyes. “Well yeah, fortunately Professor Howe faked him out and tricked him into signing the form for me.”  
  
“Heh, you get all the breaks, don’t you?” Ronnie teased.  
  
“Well if I didn’t not sure how I’d have survived,” Harriet replied. “Given my aunt and uncle.”  
  
“Fair point,” Kieran said smiling.  
  
Marcus suddenly looked less than thrilled. “Just wish we didn’t have to pass the Dementors to get there…”  
  
Harriet felt her throat clench. Somehow, she’d forgotten about the Dementors. She hugged her arms a little tighter as they made their way. What if she passed out again just walking there? She didn’t want to miss her first trip to Hogsmeade by having to go to the hospital wing instead.  
  
They dropped off their books and made their way back to Professor McGonagall’s office. They all queued up and filed in one by one to hand in their forms.  
  
“Here you are, Professor,” Harriet said excitedly as she handed in her form. To her surprise, Professor McGonagall actually looked troubled as she took Harriet’s form.  
  
“Oh, yes, thank you, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said curtly. She studied the form for a moment, almost as though she was suspecting a forgery, which rankled Harriet slightly. Okay, so her uncle had been tricked into signing it, but that had been Professor Howe’s doing for one, and for two, it was his genuine signature.  
  
Despite accepting the form, Professor McGonagall’s seeming reluctance kept intruding on Harriet’s mind. She kept wondering just what it was that could have made Professor McGonagall suspicious when Seamus reminded her rather forcibly of her real situation.  
  
“Dean! Take a look, Black’s been sighted again on the road to Hogsmeade!”  
  
“No way!” Dean replied with indecent excitement. “It does sound like he’s coming to the school, doesn’t it? Wonder what he’s after?”  
  
Harriet shivered. Now she understood. Professor McGonagall probably would prefer Harriet to stay in the castle where it was “safe” rather than going out in the open of Hogsmeade. As she got into bed that night, Harriet sighed. Would nothing ever be simple for her?  
  


### * * * *

  
Finally, the day arrived. To say it got off on a rocky start would have been an understatement. It began with Percy attempting to lecture all of the new third year students on proper conduct while in Hogsmeade. Everyone probably would have just let him get on with it and then promptly ignored everything he’d said, as per usual, if Fred and George hadn’t decided to sit in and comment on everything Percy said.  
  
“Now I know most of you right now are thinking, ‘Yay, a free day in Hogsmeade, away from the school and I can do whatever I want!’”  
  
“Which is true,” Fred interjected to widespread giggling.  
  
Percy cleared his throat. “Well, I’m here to tell you that is far from the truth. While I know I am Head Boy and my responsibilities are much larger within the school than just Gryffindor House, but Gryffindor House is my home and I assure you, I expect much better of Gryffindor students than the usual rabble.”  
  
“A common Big Head mistake,” George said to more giggles.  
  
Percy glowered and thrust his chest out in a show of self-pride, raising his voice. “In other words, you must all be on your best behaviour when you are representing Hogwarts and Gryffindor House in Hogsmeade. You _newer_ students in particular, I know a lot of people give you all a lot of leeway and sympathy over what happened, but you’ve had a whole year now to become accustomed to our ways, and—”  
  
“Hey, Head-case.”  
  
Everyone looked around confused over who had spoken. It wasn’t Fred or George, it was deeper and had a strong air of annoyance about it. Harriet finally saw who had spoken and felt her heart flutter as it always did when older boys acted bravely. It was AJ’s older brother, Ben, who was looking at Percy with great dislike.  
  
“Yes, Jackson?” Percy said looking taken aback. Harriet had hardly ever heard Ben speak before, which somehow seemed to add more value to his words as he opened his mouth to speak again.  
  
“Ya wanna start lecturin’ the ‘ _newer_ ’ ones of us on how to act in Hogsmeade, you might wanna consider more th’n’alf of us _live_ in Hogsmeade now outside school,” Ben said and looked over at some of the first and second year American students. “Heck, I’d wager some of them who aren’t even allowed to go on this trip cuz they’re too young know more about Hogsmeade now than you do.”  
  
Everyone was looking back and forth between Percy and Ben with gaping mouths, wondering how Percy would respond.  
  
“I—well—th-that may be, Jackson, but th-this is an _official_ school function,” Percy stammered. “And as such there needs to be a certain amount of propriety.”  
  
Ben merely responded by raising his eyebrows.  
  
“Yeah, or you just wanna push kids around because you think being the Big Head gives you the right,” George muttered to widespread murmurs of ascent.  
  
Percy’s face went dangerously red, but he plowed on. “As such, I should say that I believe students should wear their uniforms while in Hogsmeade, to ensure students easily recognize each other and for the ladies as there is little opportunity to wear such garments I would advise against shopping at Dusk til Dawn—”  
  
There was a wave of loud protests at this, from girls in particular. Harriet joined in, crossing her arms in disapproval. She had woken up even earlier than usual to wash up and look her best and pick out her favourite outfit from the clothes Jess McIntyre had given her, the same outfit she had worn her first day at Glen Raglan.  
  
“Hey what say we all head down to breakfast before all heading off to Hogsmeade together?” Fred said to all the gathered third years.  
  
“Yeah, Fred and I’ll give you all a tour of the best places to go! Come on!” George added.  
  
Harriet and the other third years all agreed at once and followed the twins out of the portrait hole, ignoring Percy’s angry shouts from behind them.  
  
“Don’t think I won’t go to McGonagall on this!” he shouted as the portrait hole swung closed once more. “Going to Hogsmeade is a privilege and privileges can be taken away!”  
  
“You don’t think he means that?” Lavender asked looking back over her shoulder anxiously.  
  
“Of course not,” Ronnie grumbled. “He’s just blowing smoke. Honestly, you think this is bad, try living with him.”  
  
“Ugh, no thanks,” Marcus muttered nudging Ronnie’s arm with his elbow.  
  
Ronnie rolled her eyes but smiled.  
  
Percy arrived at breakfast shortly after they did. He immediately bypassed the Gryffindor table and went straight to Professor McGonagall. They spoke quietly so no one could hear before finally Professor McGonagall rose to follow Percy out.  
  
Harriet was starting to feel nervous. By the looks of it, Percy was fully intending on carrying out his threat of getting students banned from Hogsmeade. She looked down the table at Ben who was sitting alone, eating his breakfast quietly and paying no attention as Percy and Professor McGonagall passed him.  
  
“You don’t think McGonagall’s gonna buy whatever your brother says, will she?” AJ asked Ronnie.  
  
“I doubt it,” Tori cut in. “McGonagall’s strict but she’s not stupid.”  
  
“I’ll bet you anything she tells Percy he was the one being out of line and he walks back in looking all sulky,” Parvati said looking at the door shrewdly.  
  
“What would be _really_ funny would be it completely backfiring and McGonagall blocking _him_ from going to Hogsmeade,” Dora said grinning slyly.  
  
Ronnie laughed. “That _would_ be excellent, I like the way you think sometimes.”  
  
Dora winked.  
  
Sure enough, it was only another minute before Professor McGonagall and Percy re-entered the Great Hall looking exactly as Parvati had predicted. Professor McGonagall had a set expression on her face while Percy looked downright livid, determinedly not looking at either Ben or Professor McGonagall as he made his way to the Ravenclaw table to sit with his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater.  
  
“Hypocrite,” Marcus muttered darkly. Harriet nodded in agreement, as the previous year Percy had been the most outspoken of the prefects in forcing students to sit at their house tables, rather than with their friends no matter what house they were in.  
  
Jackson looked almost beside himself with glee. “Okay, now _that_ was a thing of beauty… truly… AJ, your brother is awesome.”  
  
AJ beamed.  
  
“Honestly, wish he was a prefect or Head Boy instead,” Parvati muttered.  
  
“Mmm that’s a chest worth pinning a Head Boy badge on.”  
  
“LAVENDER!” Hermione gasped but AJ broke out laughing.  
  
“But he’s probably too old to be selected to be a Prefect now, huh?” Parvati asked AJ who was catching her breath.  
  
“Yeah, he’s a sixth-year,” AJ replied.  
  
“Well even if he was, one doesn’t have to be a prefect to be Head Boy,” Scott said knowledgably.  
  
For some reason, AJ suddenly looked put out and poked her eggs with her fork. “’Course I doubt they’d ev’ make one uh us a prefect or Head Boy ‘r Girl anyway. Given how kindly most folks took to us last year.”  
  
There followed an awkward silence as everyone ate. Harriet however had a troubling thought. “Wait, so this means he’s only got one more year after this, right?” She asked AJ with a nod towards Ben.  
  
AJ nodded. “Yeah.”  
  
“Well, if… I mean, what if the war’s not over yet? Where will he go if he’s too old for Hogwarts?”  
  
AJ simply shrugged. Harriet chewed her lip looking back down the table towards Ben. She didn’t like the thought of the Jackson family being split up even more than it already was. She looked back and caught Tori’s eye. For some reason, Tori was giving Harriet a look that bordered on disapproval, but she broke the stare and began eating. Harriet noticed even Rachel was determinedly not looking at her.  
  
After finishing breakfast, the third years and older filed into the Great Hall. AJ, Rachel and Tori all sped up away from them towards the end of the queue, leaving Harriet feeling even more confused and a little upset. The queue to go to Hogsmeade for the first time that year was backed all the way up the staircase.  
  
“What are you doing in this line, Potter?” Pansy Parkinson asked as Harriet and her friends passed on their way to the end of the line. Harriet closed her eyes and did her best not to groan in exasperation. She’d put up with enough that morning already without having to add her least favourite people at Hogwarts to the mix.  
  
“Yeah you’re gonna have to pass the Dementors going to Hogsmeade you know? Wouldn’t want to faint again and fall in the mud or something,” Pixie Fanfarró taunted.  
  
“Actually, Pixie, that’d be rather funny,” Pansy quipped back.  
  
“True, okay you should definitely come, Potter, we’ll wait at the gates so we can laugh, okay?”  
  
Harriet glared and opened her mouth to respond when a voice Harriet did not recognize spoke up. “Oh ye’d like that would yeh? Laughin’ at some’un o’er how badly Dementors affect them?”  
  
The crowd turned to see the new Muggle Studies professor, Abby Spring, glaring down at Pansy and Pixie. The two Slytherin girls looked equal parts worried and disdainful. Hermione on the other hand trembled with excitement.  
  
“Oh, hello Professor Spring!” she said in a breathless voice.  
  
“’Ello Granger, doin’ alright are we? Excited fer yer first excursion inta ‘ogsmeade, yeah?” Professor Spring asked.  
  
“Very,” Hermione agreed.  
  
Professor Spring smiled. “Well tell yeh what? How about you lot there,” she said drawing a circle in the air to indicate Harriet and her friends, “come along with me, I’ll get yeh through the VIP line.”  
  
“The what line?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“It means ‘Very Important Person,’” Hermione explained as Professor Spring started down the stairs and indicated they should all follow.  
  
Harriet glanced back at Pansy and Pixie who were both looking scandalized and livid as Professor Spring took them all to the very front of the queue.  
  
“This lot’r with me, Filch,” Professor Spring said cheerfully.  
  
Filch scowled and looked at the gathered students sceptically. “Are they all on the list?” he asked suspiciously.  
  
“Lemme see,” Professor Spring said, snatching Filch’s list from his hand and scanning through it rapidly and handing it back. “Yep, all there: Flamel, Granger, McIntyre, O’Brien, Potter, Van De Lakk, and Weasley.”  
  
Harriet stole a glance back. She quickly spotted the faces of Dean, Seamus, Neville, Parvati, Lavender, Basheera, Jackson AJ, Rachel and Tori. All of them were looking distinctly jealous. Harriet turned back to Professor Spring.  
  
“Um, excuse me, Professor Spring, before we go—”  
  
“Ah go ahead, Potter,” Professor Spring said brushing back her spiky blonde fringe.  
  
Harriet beamed and nodded and quickly ran back to the rest to have them come join in. Despite the awkward moment exiting the Great Hall, Rachel, AJ and Tori all blushed and nodded coming along with the rest of the Gryffindor third years. Professor Spring checked all the names again off the list for Filch (much to Filch’s anger) and started to lead them off down the path to the great iron gates that barred entrance to the Hogwarts grounds.  
  
Harriet was almost trembling with excitement. Not only was she going to Hogsmeade, but she was getting there before much of the rest of the school, meaning they would get first shot at most of the goods in all the shops.  
  
“Excuse me, Professor Spring,” came Fred’s voice and the twins somehow managed to materialize in front of them.  
  
“But if you’re looking for some guides to the sights of Hogsmeade, Fred and I would love to volunteer,” George said bowing.  
  
“No one better with two whole years’ experience exploring its charming local colour,” Fred added bowing too.  
  
The corners of Professor Spring’s mouth twitched and she crossed her arms. “Really, only _two_ years’ experience? Goodness you must know simply _everything_ about the place by now, yeah?” she said, her voice thick with irony.  
  
Fred and George both seemed to shrink a little, both catching Professor Spring’s sarcasm.  
  
“Well…” Fred muttered backpedalling.  
  
“Oh are you two _guides_?” Angelina said slyly sidling up to Fred. “I’d have never guessed.”  
  
“Well-kept secret, I’m sure,” Erica said stepping up to George. “Would you two kind gentlemen care to escort us silly girls into the town?”  
  
“Oh yes, we’ll just never be able to find our way with only one or two years’ experience seeing all the shops,” Alicia Spinnet chimed in.  
  
Fred and George both looked taken aback but regained their footing.  
  
“But of course, ladies,” Fred said and crooked out an arm for Angelina. “Let us be your guides!”  
  
George stole a glance at Erica and looked as though he was going to hold out his arm but thought better of it. He didn’t get the chance as Alicia stepped in and took it for him and forcibly began pulling him towards the gate.  
  
“Great,” she said smirking. “I’m just dying to do some clothes shopping at Dusk til Dawn.”  
  
“Clothes shopping?” George asked bewildered.  
  
“Oh yes, it’ll take hours,” Katie Bell said with a very serious tone. “And then we should totally stop in to Madame Puddifoot’s for lunch!”  
  
“Such a great idea, Katie!” Angelina agreed and began pulling Fred along after Alicia and George. Erica and Katie followed in their wake grinning smugly while Fred and George gave Harriet and her friends pleading looks over their shoulders.  
  
“No, no, no, _that_ was a thing of beauty,” Parvati said and the group broke out into open laughter.  
  
“They… they’re my heroes…” Lavender said in awe as she watched the older girls leading Fred and George off.  
  
“Alright, alright, enough dilly-dallyin’, time tah get teh see Hogsmeade,” Professor Spring said and they were off once more.  
  
As they neared the gate, Harriet was starting to get more and more nervous. The Dementors were there, and she was starting to feel the growing chill on what was otherwise a warm, sunny day.  
  
Professor Spring drew her wand and pointed it at the gate.  
  
“Expecto Patronum,” she said and there was a burst of dazzling silver-white light from her wand-tip and something shot off towards the gate.  
  
Harriet followed it with her eyes, realizing it had taken the shape of an animal, a squirrel to be precise. It was then she noticed it wasn’t alone. Professors Flitwick and Sinistra were standing either side of the gate and each had another silvery-white animal circling around them. The animal circling Professor Sinistra turned out to be a swan, while Professor Flitwick’s took Harriet quite a back. Despite Professor Flitwick’s tiny size, the translucent, silver-white animal circling him was clearly a bear.  
  
“What are those?” Basheera asked in awe.  
  
“Patronuses,” Professor Spring said matter-of-factly. “Only thing that really ‘olds off the D’menters effectively. ‘Ello Filius, Aurora.”  
  
“Hello Abby,” Professor Sinistra replied, smiling. Harriet felt her stomach fill with butterflies like it always did when Professor Sinistra smiled, even though Professor Sinistra was also a girl.  
  
“How long yeh on guard duty?” Professor Spring asked.  
  
“Another hour,” Professor Sinistra replied.  
  
“Hmmm, then in town ta do some _clothes_ -shoppin’?” Professor Spring asked giving Professor Sinistra a very knowing wink.  
  
Professor Sinistra flushed but otherwise remained composed and simply shrugged casually.  
  
Professor Spring simply grinned and they continued on. Rachel grinned as well.  
  
“You were teasing her about Mr Dusk, weren’t you?” she asked Professor Spring as they walked along through the gate. Harriet glanced sideways and though she still felt a slight chill that was definitely not natural, there were no Dementors to be seen anywhere.  
  
Professor Spring however simply kept grinning. “Oh goodness no, I would never do that!” she replied. “I was simply asking what her plans were after her shift guarding the gates.”  
  
No one believed that for a second, but no one questioned her either.  
  
“Now, busiest shop, bar none, will be Honeydukes, so hows about we head there first, yeah?” Professor Spring asked, changing the subject.  
  
To Harriet’s surprise, despite Ronnie’s constant talk of Honeydukes since Diagon Alley, it was AJ who looked the most excited at this prospect.  
  
“Oh my gosh definitely! I’ll finally get to introduce you all to ma little sister, Mable!”  
  
“She’s staying in Hogsmeade? Who with?” Hermione asked interested.  
  
“They live with the Flumes, the family who run Honeydukes,” AJ explained.  
  
“She lives in Honeydukes?!” Ronnie asked, gaping jealously.  
  
“Yeah, her, our cousin, Babette, the niece of the folks that run the shop, Lucy, and two other girls who’re still too young for Hogwarts.”  
  
Ronnie groaned and Professor Spring laughed. “Right then, Honeydukes it is!”  
  
Honeydukes turned out to be everything Ronnie dreamed it would be. Harriet was sure it would have surpassed even her portly cousin Dudley’s wildest fantasies. Every wall, from floor to ceiling, was covered in sweets.  
  
There were bins upon bins of toffees, chocolate nougats and sheets of coconut ice. Harriet passed a barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, a sherbet ball that made one levitate when set on the tongue. There was even a section called “Unusual Tastes” which featured blood-flavoured lollipops and a tub that looked like caramel corn but was labelled “Cockroach Cluster.”  
  
Despite getting in to Hogsmeade early, already the shop was crammed full of students taking in all the sights and smells and samples. The revelry over the sweets was punctuated by a squeal of delight and a streak of blonde hair that shot across the shop and slammed into AJ with enough force to stagger her backwards a couple steps.  
  
“HAH! Hey little sis! Ever’body, meet mah little sister, Mable,” AJ said turning the younger girl around.  
  
Mable turned out to be AJ in miniature. She beamed around at everyone before looking up at AJ. “Is Ben coming?”  
  
“Yeah he’ll be along,” AJ said rolling her eyes. “You know how he is, slow and steady.”  
  
“Fooey,” Mable grumbled before grinning and running back across the shop and returning with four more girls in tow. Two looked to be around Mable’s age. One was willowy and blonde, and looked as though her legs had done most of her growing so far. The other was stockier with a round face and strawberry blonde hair. The other two had dark brown hair and looked to be seven or eight.  
  
“Hey cousin AJ!” the willowy girl said giving AJ a hug.  
  
“Hey, Babette!” AJ replied smiling and hugging the girl back.  
  
“These are our other friends!” Mable said excitedly. “Lucy Flume, her aunt and uncle run the shop here.”  
  
“’Lo,” Lucy said awkwardly looking around at everyone.  
  
“And this is Eloise and Ava Ginsburg, they came with us from ‘Merica,” Mable said indicating the younger girls.  
  
“It’s very nice to meet you all,” Basheera said politely.  
  
“How come you’re wearing that scarf?” Eloise asked looking at Basheera’s hijab.  
  
Harriet expected Basheera to be offended, but to her surprise she smiled. “It is a mark of modesty and morality in my faith,” Basheera said simply.  
  
“Ohhhh I see,” Eloise said nodding. “It’s really pretty.”  
  
“I like the pattern,” Ava agreed.  
  
Basheera smiled wider. “Would you two like some of your own?”  
  
“YEAH!” Both exclaimed with wide eyes.  
  
Basheera beamed. “I tell you what, when I get back to the castle tonight I will pick two of my favourites for you two and have them sent down, how about that?”  
  
The girls both looked as though it was an early Christmas. Hermione was smiling in approval.  
  
“That was a very nice thing to do,” she said as Mable and the other girls moved off.  
  
“You played it so cool, too,” Marcus said nodding.  
  
Basheera shrugged. “They are good kids. I get used to people asking about it, honestly, I’ve met other kids twice their age who were much, much ruder about it,” she paused and pursed her lips. “And even some teachers…”  
  
“Is that why you left Beauxbatons?” Lavender asked.  
  
Basheera simply shrugged and they followed Professor Spring out of the shop and down the Hogsmeade high street, their money bags all much lighter and weighed down now by sacks of sweets instead.  
  
After Honeydukes, they went to Dervish and Bangs where they replenished school supplies such as quills and ink. Then they made their way to the post office, where Harriet marvelled at the hordes of owls that surrounded them all. There were owls of all shapes and sizes, arranged by how far and fast they could fly. There was a considerable delay when Ronnie spotted the shelf of tiny scops owls and Harriet and the other girls all gathered around to coo over them.  
  
After the post office they finally found their way to Zonkos. Harriet was amused to see Professor Spring studying some of the jokes to figure out how they work, and also looking at some of them a bit reminiscently. Once, she was sure she overheard her muttering out loud: “Oh gawd, Tonks and I used these all the time!”  
  
“Is it just me, or is she making anyone else regret not taking Muggle Studies?” Dora hissed in Harriet’s ear. Harriet giggled. Professor Spring did seem like a lot of fun.  
  
After Zonkos, they finally made their way to the shop Harriet had been anticipating the most, Dusk Til Dawn. It was an average sized shop by the looks of it, but the inside had clearly been enlarged. Harriet gasped as she took it all in. It was a wonderland of every type of Muggle clothes imaginable.  
  
Parvati and Lavender in particular looked as though they had died and gone to heaven.  
  
“Shoes… so many shoes… so many,” Harriet overheard Parvati murmuring as she and Lavender broke off from the group and made their way to the shoes section.  
  
Harriet meanwhile had no idea where to begin. Should she start with the dresses, or the shoes, or the tops section, or bottoms?  
  
“Ah, little Harriet Potter. I was wondering when you were going to finally make your way into my humble shop,” said a gruff, deep voice behind her.  
  
Harriet turned slowly on the spot to find herself nose to torso with a tall, strapping man with dark eyes, which Harriet couldn’t quite tell if they were dark blue or possibly even purple, a small soul-patch on his chin, long black hair done back in a ponytail and a gold-hoop earring in his left ear.  
  
He was beaming down at Harriet in a warm way that almost struck Harriet as fatherly. She didn’t even know who the man was, but she couldn’t help but feel a connection to him, much like the feeling she’d had seeing Professor Lupin for the first time.  
  
The man held out his hand. “Daniel Dusk, owner of Dusk til Dawn, and it has been a _very_ long time since I last laid eyes on you, Harriet Potter, not since you were knee-high to an eagle-owl.”  
  
“Uh ch-charmed,” Harriet said anxiously as she took Mr Dusk’s hands and he shook vigorously.  
  
Mr Dusk smiled around at the rest of Harriet’s friends. “Hmmm, now let’s see… how many more of you can I pick out, don’t tell me… ahh you there, you’re a Weasley, no doubt,” he said pointing at Ronnie.  
  
“It’s the hair isn’t it?” Ronnie said in an ever-suffering voice.  
  
“And the freckles,” Mr Dusk said. “And how much you look like those two,” he said pointing across the shop. They all turned to see Fred and George sitting together on a bench outside some changing rooms, looking miserable holding piles of clothes in each of their laps that Angelina, Alicia, Erica and Katie Bell had undoubtedly had the twins hold for them while they tried others on.  
  
“They suckered us, George,” Fred said just loud enough to be heard.  
  
“We never had a chance,” George replied, sounding as though they were being led to the gallows.  
  
“It was the smiles, they blinded us with smiles.”  
  
“Smiles, and devious, _devious_ giggling…”  
  
It was Ronnie’s turn to look like Christmas had come early.  
  
“And you there, lad,” Mr Dusk said turning his attention on Neville. “Neville Longbottom, right?”  
  
Neville’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”  
  
Mr Dusk grinned. “Spittin’ image of your mum,” he said.  
  
To Harriet’s surprise, Neville did not look touched at this revelation. Instead, his face fell and he looked very awkward. Mr Dusk seemed to notice and changed focus at once.  
  
“And you, dear, you could only be daughter of Jessica Flamel, née Rosier,” he said to Dora who beamed and nodded.  
  
“It’s ever so nice to meet you, sir,” Dora said politely.  
  
He turned his attention now to Kieran and smiled but his expression softened. “And you lad, Sean and Irene’s son, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Kieran replied.  
  
Mr Dusk turned to Scott and studied him closely. “Hmmmmm, feel like I should know… Ah! Got it. You’re a McIntyre.”  
  
Scott blinked and raised his eyebrows impressed. “Yeah, Scott McIntyre.”  
  
Mr Dusk smiled and looked around at the rest. “Those of you I don’t recognize I apologize it just means I probably did not go to school with your parents,” he admitted though he smirked at Rachel, AJ and Tori. “Though some of you I definitely already know.”  
  
“Well we’ll finally leave you alone when you finally ask Professor Sinistra out!” Rachel said putting her hands on her hip.  
  
“Oy!” Mr Dusk laughed. “Watch it you,” he said though his eyes were twinkling brightly. “’ello Abby, how’s being back on the old stomping grounds?”  
  
“Stuffy and boring now I have to be the respectable one,” she replied.  
  
Daniel laughed. “I’d like to see you try,” he said though his face softened. “And how’s Remus?”  
  
“Uh, ill again, but you probably knew that,” Professor Spring said enigmatically.  
  
Daniel simply nodded. “Well tell him to get off his bookish arse and head down for a drink every now and again, alright?”  
  
Professor Spring smiled and nodded.  
  
“Same goes for Stratton. Been almost twenty years since I was one of his students. Anyway,” he clapped his hands and smiled down at the students. “I won’t keep you lot from your shopping, though maybe let me steal Harriet for just a sec, eh Spring?” he asked Professor Spring.  
  
Professor Spring held up her hands and agreed. “Well probably no safer hands to leave her with in Hogsmeade than yours, Daniel,” she said laughing.  
  
“Good good,” Mr Dusk said and steered Harriet away from the group.  
  
He smiled down at her and Harriet couldn’t help but notice his expression had softened a great deal. He was still smiling, but there was a definite hint of concern.  
  
“So, how are you holding up, Harriet?” he asked solicitously.  
  
“With school you mean?” Harriet asked, confused.  
  
“Well, yeah, and just, in general?” he asked leaning back on the counter and looking down at her, his eyes moving back and forth between hers, as if attempting to look inside her to spot some secret ailment. “Given the um, occasion?”  
  
Harriet wasn’t quite sure what he meant by ‘occasion,’ but shrugged. “I’m okay I guess, I mean, a lot’s happened this year…”  
  
Mr Dusk twisted his mouth thoughtfully as he kept studying Harriet. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something more before stopping and changing his mind. “How’ve you liked studying under Professor Lupin?” he asked though Harriet was sure that wasn’t what he was going to ask at first.  
  
“He’s great,” Harriet replied honestly. “I’ve learned loads already, just…” Harriet trailed off, thinking of the boggart and how Professor Lupin had stepped in to keep Harriet from facing it.  
  
“Just?” Mr Dusk pressed.  
  
“It’s nothing, he just… didn’t let me face the boggart like everyone else did,” Harriet admitted though she immediately regretted it. She felt like a tattle-tale somehow.  
  
Mr Dusk raised his eyebrows. “Well that doesn’t sound like him… not the Remus I know… Though I suppose he may have worried about the rest of the class reacting to your boggart more than you…” he said scratching his chin thoughtfully.  
  
“The rest of the class?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Well, given your history I’m assuming your biggest fear would be Lord Voldemort, right?” Mr Dusk asked.  
  
Harriet was taken quite aback at this. There were only two people other than herself she had ever heard say the name “Voldemort” aloud without cringing: Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Howe.  
  
“I, well, I had thought of Voldemort, but, then I thought of those Dementors…”  
  
“Hmmm…” Mr Dusk said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should ask Professor Lupin about that? Maybe he’d give you a chance with another one? Because even if it was a Dementor, that would have probably caused panic.”  
  
“Yeah, good chance,” Harriet admitted.  
  
Mr Dusk smiled. “Well, tell you what, Harriet. As it’s been such a long time, and in honour of, well, the time of year… how about you pick out your favourite outfit you can find in my shop and it’s yours.”  
  
“Mine?” Harriet asked, astonished.  
  
“Yours. Think of it as twelve years’ of missed birthday presents,” he said, his eyes twinkling.  
  
“I-I couldn’t,” Harriet said shaking her head.  
  
“Well in that case I’ll pick something out and make you take it, but I figured letting you pick it out would be a better guarantee it would be something you’d like and fits,” he said chuckling.  
  
Harriet flushed and nodded. She turned and made her way back to her friends who were all looking at her a little jealously again.  
  
Harriet hunted around the shop and finally found an outfit she thought she liked enough to be her present. It was a cream-coloured long-sleeved jumper with maroon edging on the cuffs and collar; a matching maroon, white, and gold tartan skirt, a matching hairband, and a pair of matching cream tights and knee-high socks to go along with it.  
  
“Oh no-no-no,” Parvati said shaking her head.  
  
“What’s wrong with it?” Harriet asked blushing as she looked at herself in the mirror.  
  
“The shoes,” Parvati said pointing down at Harriet’s feet. “Those so don’t work. C’mon,” Parvati said and took Harriet’s arm, pulling her through the shop to the shoes section.  
  
After another half hour’s hunting, they settled upon a pair of soft-leather, tan moccasins. Harriet had to admit, Parvati did know her stuff when it came to shoes. They definitely matched the style, and were very comfortable.  
  
Harriet graciously accepted the gift from Mr Dusk and decided to wear it out of the shop. They were just about to leave the shop when Scott was stopped by someone grabbing his arm.  
  
“Hey, y-you’re in Ravenclaw, right?” a timid voice asked.  
  
Harriet turned to see a boy who looked to be around their age, maybe a year older or younger, she had never seen before looking at Scott anxiously. He had very curly brown hair and blue eyes, with a round face and broad shoulders for his age.  
  
“Um, yeah?” Scott replied, a bemused expression on his face.  
  
“Oh, good, um, do you know Antoinette well?”  
  
“Antoinette?” Scott asked. “No… no I don’t think so?”  
  
“Ohhhh you mean Toni!” Rachel said. “Toni Middleton, she’s a year behind us,” she explained to Scott.  
  
“Y-yeah,” the boy said. “But I call her Antoinette… I think it’s prettier… anyway, uh sorry, I’m Hyland, Hyland Stevens. Would you do me a favour?” he asked Scott. “I mean you don’t gotta, but, would you give this to her?” he said handing Scott a package.  
  
“Oh, sure, what is it?” Scott asked.  
  
“A present, for her birthday,” Hyland said. “I know it’s not till December but I can’t go to the school and she’s not old enough to come to Hogsmeade so…”  
  
Scott smiled. “Yeah, okay, I’ll take it to her. Should I tell her it’s from you?”  
  
Hyland smiled sheepishly. “Think she’ll know it’s from me,” he said before turning and walking away without another word.  
  
Professor Spring smiled. “That was nice of you, McIntyre.”  
  
“Who is he?” Ronnie asked, looking after the boy curiously.  
  
“Hyland’s lived in Hogsmeade his whole life. An orphan, was just abandoned in the town when he was only six-months old,” Professor Spring explained sadly. “I remember him when I was still at Hogwarts. Whole town pretty much adopted him. He helps out around all the shops, but he lives with the old bartender of the Hog’s Head, which is not the first choice but he seems to get on well enough.”  
  
“Why doesn’t he go to Hogwarts,” Marcus asked. “He’s old enough.”  
  
Professor Spring’s mouth twisted uncomfortably. “Well, Van De Lakk, that’d be because he’s a squib. At least the letter he was left with said he was. Poor kid…”  
  
“Do… do squibs often get abandoned?” Hermione asked in a very little voice.  
  
Professor Spring shook her head. “It’s pretty rare these days, though I can’t imagine how the real parents coulda known at only six-months. I mean magic usually doesn’t show itself until kids’re seven or so… anyway, let’s get on with the day, yeah?”  
  
Without waiting for an answer, Professor Spring led them to the Three Broomsticks. It was run by a curvy, pretty, raven-haired woman named Madam Rosmerta who gave a cry of delight as Professor Spring stepped through the door and rushed over to hug her.  
  
“There’s my little Abigaaaaail!” Madam Rosmerta cooed hugging Professor Spring tight.  
  
“’ello Rosie, missed me that much?”  
  
“Oh not a _day_ goes by I don’t miss you and Tonks causing a ruckus about the pub,” Madam Rosmerta said happily.  
  
“And that was just the days when we worked here during the summer!” Professor Spring replied and Madam Rosmerta threw her head back and laughed loudly. It was then Harriet noticed that all the boys had gone rather quiet and were determinedly not looking at Madam Rosmerta.  
  
Madam Rosmerta guided them all to two large tables nearby and brought them together to give the group enough room. She served them all butterbeers which were probably the most delicious drinks Harriet had ever had. They filled her with a warmth that seemed to sooth rather than make her hot on the already warm day. She also served them fresh fish and chips, a house specialty.  
  
Again Harriet couldn’t help but notice the boys getting nervous and quiet whenever Madam Rosmerta came to the table. All of the girls, with the exception of Dora, seemed rather annoyed by this. Ronnie actually aimed a kick at Marcus under the table as he leaned back a little to keep Madam Rosmerta in view as she made her way back to the bar. Harriet glanced at Dora again and saw Dora too following Madam Rosmerta and studying her closely.  
  
“What, trying to get pointers?” Harriet teased.  
  
“What?” Dora asked and turned her gaze back to Harriet. “Oh, uh yeah, you know,” she said and hastily began drinking her butterbeer and going almost as red as Ronnie’s hair.  
  
Harriet raised an eyebrow and debated pressing the subject, but everyone was starting to chat and laugh again so she decided to drop it. She was quite enjoying herself when she became aware of quiet muttering going on behind her. She turned to see a group of Hufflepuffs gathered around Zacharias Smith. While most of the people Harriet disliked at Hogwarts came from Slytherin House, Zacharias was the one exception. Just last year she had started a massive food fight in the Great Hall by hitting Zacharias in the forehead with an orange after he launched a bowl of hot soup onto Rachel’s head, burning her neck.  
  
“I reckon the rumours are true,” Zacharias was whispering and looking at Jackson. “His boggart was a bleedin’ gun… what more would a murderer have to be afraid of than the murder weapon?”  
  
“Oh seriously, Zacharias,” Hannah Abbot said. “You spent all last year going on about how Harriet could only be the Heir of Slytherin and look how right you were about that?”  
  
“Just because she killed the basilisk doesn’t mean she’s not guilty!” Zacharias declared. “She probably did it to cover he tracks before someone found out it was her.”  
  
There was more angry muttering and half the group of Hufflepuffs left the table. Zacharias glared after them angrily but then caught Harriet’s eye and realized she had heard everything.  
  
The door chimed again and this time Jeremy Owens and Isabella Martinez entered, followed by some of their other Hufflepuff friends, Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had been petrified by Riddle’s basilisk the year before; the blond American McGee twins, and the very shy blond girl, Skye Sutler, who almost missed her own sorting because she was too afraid to let Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on her head.  
  
At once, Zacharias launched into gossip.  
  
“Owens, he’s another who’s been rubbing me the wrong way, lately.”  
  
“He’s been rubbing you the wrong way since you got in a fight with him last year,” one of the remaining Hufflepuffs said in an ever-suffering voice.  
  
“But he’s been ill so often!” Zacharias insisted. “He was sick once a month last year, then he was sick when school started this year, he was sick at the end of September, and it’s the end of October and he’s sick yet again!”  
  
“Well, he still managed to make it in to Hogsmeade,” another Hufflepuff said shrugging. “And it’s obviously nothing contagious or they wouldn’t let him stay in our dorm would they?”  
  
Zacharias pursed his lips watching as the newly arrived group sat down on the other side of the dining room.  
  
“He’s stopped putting in the same effort in classes, and you remember his boggart, what was up with that?”  
  
“So, some people are just more sensitive than others.”  
  
“But it turned into all of us, just kept changing and changing, all of us one after another, all calling him a monster before it just blew up! Like he overloaded it! But see that word, we all called him “monster?” Why would he—”  
  
“Oh I can’t take this anymore,” another Hufflepuff said and the rest of the Hufflepuffs sitting around Zacharias got up and left to go sit with Jeremy and the rest instead. Zacharias caught Harriet’s eye again and she gave him a very smug smirk and he glowered before finishing his food, getting up and leaving the pub in a huff.  
  


### * * * *

  
Even though Harriet was already fuller than she had ever been from all the good food at the Three Broomsticks and the Honeydukes’ sweets, she was very excited for the feast that night. The food was always excellent, and the entertainment even more so. This year was no exception. Live bats fluttered and swooped around the ceiling, dodging long streamers of bright-orange flame that lit the Great Hall as though a large bonfire was burning in the middle of the room, aided by the light of hundreds of candle-filled jack-o-lanterns that lined the walls.  
  
The finale was done by the Hogwarts ghosts, who did a spot of formation flying like an air show, and even Nearly-Headless Nick showed his good humour by engaging in a re-enactment of how his beheading had gone so awry. Harriet supposed in any other instance the event would have been horrifying, but having known Nick for so long, and as he was dead there was no blood, it didn’t quite seem as terrible as it probably was in real life.  
  
Finally, Professor Dumbledore rose to tell them all it was time to go to bed. The students all filed from the Great Hall and Harriet bid goodnight to Scott and Dora who re-joined their houses to head back to their common rooms. The Gryffindors took the familiar path up to Gryffindor Tower, however, just as they arrived in the corridor that led to the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it was crammed full of students all milling about, confused and whispering nervously.  
  
“What’s going on? Why’s everyone just standing around?” Ginny asked as she joined them.  
  
“Dunno,” Ronnie replied, going up on tip-toe to try and peer over the crowd. “The portrait’s still shut.”  
  
“Move aside, lemme through, come on now,” they heard Percy grumbling as he made their way past them through the crowd. “Head Boy coming through, seriously you can’t _all_ have forgotten the password, what the devi—” Percy stopped talking abruptly before barking authoritatively “Somebody go get Professor Dumbledore, now!”  
  
A fourth year boy nodded and ran back down the corridor and down the stairs. He returned two minutes later with Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall in tow, both looking very serious. The crowd parted and Harriet stepped into the gap behind them and finally got a look at what the fuss was about as they reached the portrait hole. Hermione gasped and grabbed Harriet’s arm tight in shock.  
  
The Fat Lady was gone, and there were great slashes across the canvas, as if by great claws or a knife. Professor Dumbledore turned back to look at Professor McGonagall as well as Lupin and Snape who had just arrived.  
  
“We need to find the Fat Lady and find out what happened. Professor McGonagall, find Mr Filch and tell him to scour every painting in the castle until she’s found.”  
  
“Fat chance of that!” cackled the unmistakable voice of Peeves, the Poltergeist.  
  
“And what do you mean by that, Peeves?” Professor Dumbledore asked, and although his voice remained calm, Harriet felt a chill run down her back and even Peeves’ grin faltered and his voice lost its cackle. Clearly, Peeves did not dare to taunt the Headmaster, and just as clearly, Professor Dumbledore was in no mood to put up with Peeves’ games.  
  
“Oh she’s most ashamed, your Headship. Last saw her darting between the trees on the fourth-floor’s landscape, crying bloody murder and looking a _terrible, terrible_ mess!” Peeves said floating over onto his head and grinning merrily at the thought of the Fat Lady’s fright.  
  
“Uh, poor thing,” Peeves added, though he fooled no one.  
  
“And did she say who attacked her?” Professor Dumbledore asked.  
  
“Oh yes, Professorhead,” Peeves said, his grin growing wider and wider. “He got so _very_ angry when she wouldn’t let him in. Such a nasty temper he has…”  
  
“ _Who_ has?” Professor McGonagall pressed, though by the look of terror on her face, Harriet was sure both of what the answer was, and that Professor McGonagall was sure too.  
  
“Why Professor, Sirius Black of course!”


	14. The Break-in, the Ban, and the Black Dog

“There is a fine line between curiosity and cynicism.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“The staff and I are going to be conducting a thorough search of the castle,” Professor Dumbledore said.  
  
They were back in the Great Hall now. Not just the Gryffindors, but the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins as well. Dora and Scott kept stealing confused and curious glances at Harriet and the rest, but as Professor Dumbledore was speaking no one dared interrupt.  
  
“I am afraid that for your safety you will all remain here for the night. The prefects will stand watch over the entrance and the Head Boy and Girl are in charge,” Professor Dumbledore went on. He turned to Percy who was looking very proud indeed. “Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately.”  
  
“Yes, Headmaster,” Percy said. “I’ll send word with one of the ghosts.”  
  
“Very good,” Professor Dumbledore replied.  
  
Then, to Percy’s horror, Professor Dumbledore turned to AJ’s brother, Ben. “Mister Jackson, dangerous though it is, I am going to ask for your help in the search. Your knowledge of the passages of the castle should prove invaluable. You can assist Mr Filch.”  
  
“Of course, sir,” Ben said, sounding very serious as he drew his wand.  
  
Professor Dumbledore looked past Percy’s scandalized face and looked over the gathered students. He drew his wand gracefully and waved it casually. The house tables all rose into the air and flew over the students’ heads to the walls where they stacked themselves neatly. He gave a flick and another wave and a giant pile of mattress pads and sleeping bags materialized in the middle of the room.  
  
“Do sleep well,” Professor Dumbledore, leading Ben and the rest of the staff into the Entrance Hall.  
  
At once, the Great Hall was filled with the buzzing of hushed voices as Gryffindor students hurried to spread the gossip of what happened to their friends in the other houses. Dora and Scott rushed over, eager to learn what had happened themselves.  
  
“What’s going on? All Snape told us was there was an incident and we needed to go to the Great Hall,” Dora asked.  
  
“It was Sirius Black,” Marcus said, his tone very serious. “It looks like he tried to get into Gryffindor Tower while we were all down at the feast. He attacked the Fat Lady; must have used a knife because there were great tears all across the canvas.”  
  
Scott looked stricken.  
  
Dora looked terrified and clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god,” she gasped into her hands. “Is Emma okay?”  
  
“Uh,” Ronnie muttered and looked around.  
  
Harriet felt her heart sink. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen Emma since breakfast that morning.  
  
“Emma?!” Dora called frantically. “Has anyone seen Emma!?”  
  
“N-no,” said a timid looking first-year Gryffindor girl.  
  
“Oh no!” Nanette Sinistra gasped clapping her own hands to her mouth. “She said she wasn’t feeling well before the feast and she was going to lie down!”  
  
“So she’s still in Gryffindor Tower then?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Well, at least she’ll be safe there—Dora!” Hermione exclaimed as Dora started running towards the door but Percy blocked the way.  
  
“Flamel! What do you think you’re doing?” Percy asked, as Dora tried to push past him.  
  
“My sister’s still in Gryffindor Tower, idiot!” she declared, her voice shrill in her haste to get past Percy.  
  
Harriet stared. This was a side of Dora that Harriet had never seen before, and though it was unexpected, Harriet found herself greatly moved. Up until now, Dora had been perfectly eager to push her sister Emma headlong into any situation Emma was too afraid to do otherwise. Now that she was possibly in danger, however, Dora looked less like a pretty blonde copy of her mother, and more like a very angry wolverine.  
  
To Harriet’s greater surprise, she had expected Percy to get even angrier, he instead tried to calm Dora down.  
  
“Flamel, calm down. The Fat Lady who guards the entrance has run off, you can’t get in,” he said in a soothing voice.  
  
“But she can get out! What if she leaves while Black’s still in the castle!” Dora shrieked and swatted away Percy’s hands as he tried to put them on her shoulders to calm her.  
  
“Dora dear,” Penelope Clearwater said hurrying over. “We’ll find her. We’ll send one of the ghosts into the tower to look for her, is that alright?”  
  
“Very good idea, Penny. How about that, Flamel?” Percy asked.  
  
While she didn’t look entirely thrilled about it, Dora nodded.  
  
“Good,” Penelope said and turned to a female ghost floating nearby. “Grey Lady, would you please go to Gryffindor Tower and look for a student named Emma Flamel—what year is your sister, Dora?”  
  
“First year,” Dora said. She trailed off as her anger seemed to give over to fear and she barely stifled a sob.  
  
The ghost nodded and floated off through the door to the Entrance Hall.  
  
“There,” Penelope said putting an arm around Dora’s shoulder and guiding her back to Harriet and her friends. “We’ll find her and bring her right back.”  
  
Dora nodded, apparently unable to speak as she clutched her arms tight around her chest. Harriet, Hermione and Ronnie hurried over and took over, all holding Dora as Scott and Marcus laid out a mattress pad and sleeping bag for her. The girls helped Dora down onto it where she sat hugging her legs to her chest.  
  
The boys collected more sleeping bags and mattress pads for everyone and they all pushed them together in a circle. They sat and waited. No one dared speak until they knew for sure that Emma was safe.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the door and Percy checked it cautiously but smiled in relief and pulled the door open. The first to come through was the ghost who had gone to look for Emma, the next was Ben who entered carrying Emma in his arms the same way Doctor Watkins had carried Harriet from her room to the Dursley’s couch in Privet Drive over the summer. However, it wasn’t just Emma. Clutched tightly in Emma’s arms was—  
  
“Crookshanks?” Hermione asked looking confused.  
  
The great ginger cat was looking around the room, perched almost defensively on Emma’s chest as if daring anyone to approach the frightened girl as Ben carried her over the threshold.  
  
Dora shrieked and ran as fast as she could towards them. Ben lowered Emma, who kept Crookshanks clutched tight to her chest, as Dora caught up and went up on tip-toe, hugging her taller little sister so tight Harriet was sure she was going to crush both Emma and Crookshanks. Crookshanks yowled in protest and Emma finally let go of the cat who dropped to the floor and trotted to Hermione who was still looking at her cat with great confusion.  
  
“Filch and I were still in the Entrance Hall checking the front door for any possible tampering when the Grey Lady came out. She told us what the situation was so we followed her up to Gryffindor tower. She found Emma hiding under her bed,” Ben explained.  
  
“Apparently she heard Black trying to get in and ran and hid. The cat I guess ran under with her. She wouldn’t let go of it and the cat actually scratched up Filch when he tried to take it from her,” Ben explained to Percy as Filch came in, looking grouchy as ever with noticeable red scratches on his face and hands.  
  
“How’d you get her out?” Percy asked, looking equal parts relieved, impressed, and resentful.  
  
“Grey Lady talked her into coming out,” Ben said. “Filch and I were waiting outside and she finally came out and we brought her back down here.”  
  
“He was so angry…” Emma whispered as she rested her head on Dora’s shoulder. “So angry…”  
  
“It’s okay honey,” Dora said finally breaking the hug and guiding Emma over to the rest. “You’re safe, the teachers are gonna find him, we’re all okay.”  
  
Dora sounded as though she was choking back tears, but the look of relief on her face told Harriet they were at least tears of happiness.  
  
“That was good work, Jackson,” Percy said, trying to sound congratulatory but still with a hint of resentment in his voice.  
  
“Glad she’s safe,” Ben said simply. “Right Filch, back to the search.”  
  
Filch scowled with open resentment at being ordered around by a student but didn’t argue as they turned and left. Percy locked the door behind them and stared at the door for a few moments before turning around to the rest of their students.  
  
“Everyone in their sleeping bags,” he called so everyone could hear. “Lights going out in ten minutes.”  
  
“So, think Black escaped?” Marcus asked.  
  
“Dunno,” Ronnie said sounding worried.  
  
“Probably,” Scott reasoned. He looked as though he was thinking very hard.  
  
“Lucky he picked tonight,” Hermione said as she slid into her sleeping bag. “The one night we were, well, were almost all down here, and not in the tower.”  
  
Hermione gave an anxious glance at Dora and Emma but neither made any indication they had heard. Dora had pushed her and Emma’s mattress pads together and opened up her sleeping bag like a blanket and the two sisters were cuddled together underneath it, Dora just holding Emma as tight as she could and staring blankly into space.  
  
“He must have lost track of time after so many years in Azkaban and so long on the run,” Harriet suggested. She was trying to sound braver than she felt. There could have only been one reason why Black had broken in and gone straight to Gryffindor Tower. He had been going after her.  
  
Kieran seemed to sense Harriet’s discomfort and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“I… I don’t think so…” Scott said scratching his chin. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.  
  
“Why not?” Marcus asked.  
  
“Well… he may not have known it was Halloween day… but he can’t have lost track of the _time_ that much, can he? I mean it’s not that late… wouldn’t he start to wonder why he wasn’t seeing anyone in the halls? I mean… _anyone_?”  
  
“That’s… that’s true…” Hermione agreed.  
  
Harriet thought about it and Scott did have a point.  
  
“Though, he may have known what day it was… and maybe was trying to sneak into the tower to take everyone by surprise when we got back?” Kieran suggested.  
  
“Maybe…” Scott said, but he didn’t sound convinced.  
  
“He must know a secret way in,” Hermione said.  
  
“Why do you say that?” Marcus asked.  
  
“Well, he can’t have come in the front door, or he would have heard us all in here.”  
  
“That’s a very good point too,” Scott said. “I don’t know… something about this just doesn’t feel… right? Is that the word? Right?” he muttered and rubbed his eyes hard with the palms of his hands.  
  
“How did he even get in in the first place?” Harriet heard a nearby Ravenclaw ask. “With all the Dementors around?”  
  
“Must have a disguise or something that can fool them,” another Ravenclaw replied.  
  
“Could have stolen a broom and flown in,” Dean Thomas suggested.  
  
“Simplest answer is he can apparate,” suggested an older Hufflepuff boy.  
  
“What, without a wand?” another hissed.  
  
“How do we know he doesn’t have one?”  
  
“Honestly,” Hermione grunted as she stroked Crookshanks’ fluffy fur. “Hasn’t _anyone_ read _Hogwarts: A History_ outside the section with the Chamber of Secrets?”  
  
“Me,” Scott said.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
“Why?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Because there’s more protecting the school than walls and a door,” Hermione replied. “There are all sorts of enchantments protecting the castle and the grounds. It’s impossible to apparate or disapparate anywhere in the grounds for one. The Dementors are guarding every entrance to the grounds, and they would have sensed him flying in, and Filch knows all the secret passages—”  
  
“Okay lights out, now!” Percy shouted. “No more talking anyone, everyone in your sleeping bags, get along now!”  
  
The candles all went out. It would have been pitch black if not for the ghosts giving off their pale silver light, almost like the charmed animals that Professors Flitwick, Spring and Sinistra had conjured earlier that day: patronuses. The room was also lit by the light of the looming full moon floating above them.  
  
“You think Jeremy’s okay?” Harriet heard Isabella hiss nearby.  
  
“What do you mean?” asked one of the McGee twins.  
  
“Well, he was… you know, he went back to the Hospital Wing after Hogsmeade.”  
  
“He’ll be fine,” Cedric Diggory whispered as he patrolled among the sleeping bags. “I’m sure they have the Hospital Wing on lock-down too, don’t worry.”  
  
“Okay, thanks Cedric,” Isabella sighed.  
  
Every hour, one of the teachers stopped in to check on the situation. It took a long time for everyone to fall asleep, and the quiet whispers that kept sweeping over the Great Hall sounded like soft breezes. In fact, if Harriet hadn’t known better, she would have felt as though she was camping on the ground outside under a moonlit sky.  
  
Ronnie finally fell asleep around two thirty, her deep breathing slow and steady, mixed in with intermittent snores. Harriet was just about to drop off herself when the door opened once more and Professor Dumbledore returned. Percy was nearby, telling some other students off for talking and Professor Dumbledore made his way over. Harriet closed her eyes as the Headmaster drew near.  
  
“Any sign of him, sir?” Percy asked.  
  
“No. I see everything is in hand here.”  
  
“Yes sir,” Percy said, his voice filling with pride. “We had a slight hiccup over the younger Flamel sister, but we sorted that out.”  
  
“Yes, Mr Jackson informed me of the incident.”  
  
Even with her eyes closed, Harriet could sense Percy tensing at Ben’s name.  
  
“That was a well handled situation, Mr Weasley,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Just as I expected.”  
  
“Oh, th-thank you, headmaster,” Percy said, sounding abashed.  
  
Professor Dumbledore sighed. “There’s no point moving everyone now they’re mostly asleep. I have found a replacement for the Fat Lady for the time being.”  
  
“And the Fat Lady, herself, sir?”  
  
“Mr Filch found her in the map of Argyllshire on the second floor. She refused Black entrance without the password, naturally, and so he attacked. She’s still most distressed but once she’s come to her senses I shall have her restored.”  
  
The door creaked open again and Harriet heard more footsteps approaching.  
  
“Headmaster?” asked the voice of Professor Snape.  
  
“Yes, Severus?”  
  
“I searched the whole of the third floor, he’s not there. Spring and Flitwick say the second floor is clear as well, and McGonagall and Sprout have cleared the first floor.”  
  
“What of the dungeons?”  
  
“Jackson and Filch found nothing.”  
  
“I see. And Aurora’s tower? Sybill’s room? The Owlery?”  
  
“All have been searched, Headmaster. He’s not here.”  
  
Professor Dumbledore sighed. “Very well, Severus. Not that I expected him to linger.”  
  
“Have you any theory on how he got in, sir?” Professor Snape asked.  
  
“Many, Severus, though I count all of them highly unlikely.”  
  
“You remember our conversation from the start of term, Headmaster,” Professor Snape went on. His voice sounded strained, as though he was barely opening his lips.  
  
Harriet lifted her head by the tiniest amount and opened her eyes just enough to squint up. Professor Dumbledore’s face seemed sombre, but Professor Snape’s was taut with his usual angry look. Percy meanwhile was looking back and forth between the two with rapt attention. Harriet wondered if Snape was talking like that to block Percy out of the conversation.  
  
“I do,” Professor Dumbledore said with surprising curtness. Even Professor Snape looked taken aback, but he pressed on anyway.  
  
“Well, you have to admit, it seems nearly impossible that Black could have gotten in here without inside—”  
  
“I do not believe, and never will, that a single person within this castle would help Black enter it,” Professor Dumbledore replied. Professor Snape now looked as though Dumbledore had slapped him.  
  
Professor Dumbledore gave another sigh and seemed to regain his composure. “I must go down to the Dementors, inform them that the search is over.”  
  
“The Dementors?” Percy asked. “Couldn’t they have helped with the search? I bet they would have found him in no time,” Percy suggested.  
  
Professor Dumbledore paused. “That is possible. However, no Dementor shall ever pass the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster.”  
  
Without another word, Professor Dumbledore strode off to the door to the Entrance Hall and left. Percy was left standing where he was, his mouth gaping. Professor Snape however was watching after Professor Dumbledore with great resentment. A few moments passed before Snape strode off to the Entrance Hall as well.  
  
Harriet turned her head to see that all her friends but Dora were looking back at her. By the looks of it, even Ronnie had been awoken and had listened in.  
  
“What was that about?” Ronnie asked, whispering as quietly as she could.  
  
Harriet shrugged.  
  
“Let’s try and get some sleep,” Hermione hissed and to Harriet’s surprise, she reached out to her sides and actually took both Harriet and Ronnie’s hands and gave them tight squeezes and didn’t let go. Harriet squeezed back and was just about to close her eyes to sleep when she felt another hand take her other hand. She looked to see that Dora was laying on her back now, Emma’s head on her shoulder, clearly asleep. Dora was looking at Harriet, her blue eyes glinting in the dim light.  
  
Harriet did her best to give Dora a reassuring smile and gave her hand a squeeze. Dora returned the squeeze and gently rubbed her thumb over the top of Harriet’s hand. The gesture struck Harriet for some reason.  
  
Perhaps because it was so gentle and it was coming from the same girl who had threatened to unleash ravenous species of termites on Harriet’s aunt and uncle’s house?  
  
Dora finally gave one soft little smile, and closed her eyes. Harriet looked side to side, seeing everyone else dropping off before she too closed her eyes and fell asleep.  
  


### * * * *

  
Things did not improve much for Harriet over the next few days. First of all, Sirius Black remained the main topic of gossip throughout the school for almost a week. The theories of how he had got in and what he was after grew more and more elaborate with each retelling.  
  
The most irksome change to all the Gryffindors was who Professor Dumbledore had found to replace the Fat Lady. It was Sir Cadogan, the short knight who Rachel had sweet talked into showing them the way Professor Trelawney’s classroom. The trouble was, he was a little over enthusiastic in carrying out his orders to guard the portrait hole at all cost. He challenged every boy who approached to a duel, sometimes even after they gave the correct password.  
  
He wasn’t much better with girls either. He didn’t challenge them to duels, but he did take on an air of suspicion, which doubled if any girl did try and sweet-talk him. Most of the girls, Harriet included, found this even more insulting than being challenged to duels.  
  
“At least after boys accept the duel and he realizes they can’t actually duel he sort of trusts the boys,” Tori grumbled to widespread agreement at the end of the first week of Sir Cadogan’s stint as guardian.  
  
Worst of all, outside the duels and mistrust, was how he changed the passwords at least twice a day.  
  
“Can’t we get someone else?” Seamus growled halfway through the second week of Sir Cadogan’s reign.  
  
“None of the other portraits wanted the job, Finnigan,” Percy grumbled. “Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough, or maybe mad enough, to take the job on.”  
  
Whatever her feelings over Percy had been this past fall, the fact that Percy seemed equally annoyed with Sir Cadogan as the rest of them did win him some points with her. But not that many.  
  
What was worse to Harriet in particular, was how professors and Percy seemed to go out of their way to walk with Harriet wherever she went. While Harriet was touched everyone cared so much and wanted to keep her safe, it was beginning to get a little oppressive.  
  
The worst thing to happen came early the following week when Professor McGonagall summoned Harriet to her office. At first Harriet was wondering what she could have done, but after seeing the look on Professor McGonagall’s face, Harriet was left wondering if someone had died.  
  
“I know you have been made aware of Black and his intentions, Potter, so I’ll get straight to the point,” Professor McGonagall said. She took a deep breath and leaned forward on her desk. “After much discussion, it has been decided that it is unwise for you to attend trips to Hogsmeade for the time being.”  
  
“What?!” Harriet shouted. She was so shocked and angry she actually stood up.  
  
“Sit down, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.  
  
Harriet did not sit. She was too angry.  
  
“Potter, please sit,” Professor McGonagall insisted. Something about this quieter, calmer request struck Harriet. She looked in Professor McGonagall’s eyes and was surprised to see something there she had never seen before. It was something like pity, but Harriet couldn’t quite be sure. She sat down.  
  
“Understand Potter, Black proved he was perfectly capable of getting in the castle. I know you may think that given that reality what’s the point keeping you in the castle? Well, the point is you can still be better protected in the castle than outside of it. If Black can get this close while you are in the bounds of the castle, just imagine how easily he can attack you in the streets of Hogsmeade.”  
  
Harriet gripped her robes in her hand trying to remain composed. The injustice of it all was washing over her. She’d had the form signed, hadn’t she? Why was she now the only one barred over something she had no control over? It wasn’t fair.  
  
“You must also understand, Potter, that this measure came with some compromises. For instance, you will be allowed to continue your Quidditch training in the evenings, on condition that Madam Hooch oversees your practices.”  
  
Harriet blinked. People had even considered taking Quidditch from her as well over this? Harriet almost felt faint. But at least she hadn’t lost that. Having Madam Hooch around was definitely an acceptable condition for Harriet to keep playing Quidditch.  
  
“This will also only be until Black is captured,” Professor McGonagall added. “Afterwards you will be allowed full access to Hogsmeade on Hogsmeade weekends with the rest of the school.”  
  
Harriet’s friends were sufficiently sympathetic.  
  
“You’re right,” Ronnie declared. “It is stupid, I mean, if Black can get in here, what’s the point?”  
  
“The point,” Hermione said coolly, “is keeping Harriet safe. McGonagall’s right, if he can get this close to Harriet in the castle she’d be a near sitting duck in Hogsmeade.”  
  
Harriet sighed and thumped her forehead down on her still empty lunch plate. She’d lost her appetite after the meeting with Professor McGonagall.  
  
“And you say Ronnie and I have no tact,” Dora growled, sounding rather like Crookshanks bearing down on Scabbers.  
  
“What?” Hermione said, sounding taken quite aback at this.  
  
“Well, I mean it’s not like I always think things out before I say them, but not everything has to boil down to being ‘logical’ does it?”  
  
“But I’m the one who thinks it’s good because it keeps Harriet safe!” Hermione spat slamming her rune dictionary shut.  
  
“Well we all do but there’s better ways of saying that!” Dora hissed.  
  
Hermione stood quickly.  
  
“I have to go, I’ve got to get to Ancient Runes,” she said and shoved her book in her bag and stormed off from the table.  
  
There was an awkward silence and then Ronnie spoke up. “Wait a minute… she can’t be going to Ancient Runes, we have Care of Magical Creatures in twenty minutes…”  
  
“Well, she was a _bit_ upset,” Kieran said, his voice thick with disapproval. “She was probably just making up an excuse…”  
  
There was an awkward pause. “I’ll apologize at dinner…” Dora finally said, sounding genuinely abashed, which Harriet hadn’t thought possible.  
  
Harriet lifted her head finally looking around. Ronnie was still scowling and stabbing uninterested at the peas rolling around her plate with her fork. Kieran and Marcus were not looking at anyone, just leaning over their plates eating. Dora was giving Harriet an apologetic look.  
  
It was Scott’s behaviour that struck her the most. He wasn’t eating, or looking at Harriet. He was looking at the entrance to the Great Hall where Hermione had just left.  
  
Harriet knew that Scott and Hermione got on the best of her friends. He had been nearly killed by Riddle’s basilisk the previous spring when he borrowed Harriet’s invisibility cloak to visit Hermione in the Hospital Wing after she had been petrified and the Hospital Wing had been locked down for safety. But the look on his face puzzled Harriet greatly. It wasn’t concern, it was calculating. His eyes were narrowed and his forehead furrowed. He was rubbing his cheek absent-mindedly.  
  
Harriet never got the chance to ask what had puzzled Scott so much. Harriet’s bad luck did not end with being banned from Hogsmeade. As the first Quidditch match neared, the weather grew worse and worse. It was a constant stream of heavy rain and thunderstorms, and they showed no sign of stopping by their final Quidditch practice before the match. At best, it helped take her mind off the Hogsmeade ban.  
  
To make matters worse, when Wood arrived at the final practice he was in such a rage he slammed the door to the changing room so hard one of the mirrors over the sinks fell off the wall.  
  
“We’re not playing Slytherin!” he raged pacing the floor in a towering temper.  
  
“Oh what?!” Fred exclaimed looking dumbstruck.  
  
“Flint just ran me down on the way here. We’re going to play Hufflepuff instead.”  
  
George swore.  
  
“The hell thought that one up?” Angelina demanded looking equally outraged.  
  
“Flint’s excuse is their Seeker’s arm’s still injured,” Wood grumbled through gritted teeth. “But that’s not the real reason.”  
  
Wood gestured at the ceiling. “The real reason’s they don’t want to play in this weather and damage their chances.”  
  
Almost on cue, there was another roll of thunder.  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with Malfoy’s arm,” Harriet growled. “He’s faking it…”  
  
“Of course he’s faking it, but we can’t prove that,” Wood snarled. “And we’ve spent weeks practicing the tactics we worked out to deal with Slytherin’s faster brooms, and instead it’s Hufflepuff.”  
  
“Well it’s not like Hufflepuff’s that big a worry,” Fred said looking over at Harriet. “Last time we played them you caught the snitch in what, five minutes?”  
  
“That was a completely different scenario!” Wood cried pulling at his hair in frustration. “Diggory’s their captain now and he’s an _excellent_ Seeker and he’s put a very strong side together this year.”  
  
“Okay, Oliver, okay,” Alicia said in a calming voice. “We’re not underestimating Hufflepuff.”  
  
“Even if Diggory’s thick as a post,” George muttered.  
  
“He is not thick,” Harriet spat. She didn’t know where it had come from, but everyone was looking at her with bemused looks and Harriet suddenly felt very small.  
  
“I-I mean I agree with Wood,” she said trying to cover. “I beat him last time but just barely. He’s had two years to get ready to fly against me again,” Harriet said.  
  
Most of the team seemed to buy it. The exception was Angelina who kept giving her a raised eyebrow.  
  


### * * * *

  
By the time the day before the first match arrived, Harriet was starting to feel cursed. The match was on the last Saturday of November, and Harriet was making her way to that Friday’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class. In his panic over the change in their opponent, Wood kept stopping Harriet between lessons to give her tips and ideas that came to his head during class. This time, Wood had kept her so long she suddenly realized she was ten minutes late.  
  
However, Harriet’s heart stopped as she entered the classroom, about to apologize to Professor Lupin for being so late. At least she would have apologized to Professor Lupin, had he been the one behind the desk. Instead, it was Professor Snape giving her a very disapproving look indeed.  
  
“This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter,” Professor Snape said. “That calls for ten points from Gryffindor for each minute late. Now sit down so we may continue.”  
  
Harriet scowled but sat as told. Professor Snape turned his attention on the rest of the class. “Now, as I was saying, Professor Lupin did not leave me a record of the topics you have covered so far—”  
  
“Please sir,” Hermione said raising her hand. “we first did Boggarts, then Red Caps, kappas, grindylows, and now—”  
  
“Quiet, Granger, I was not asking for information. I was commenting on Professor Lupin’s poor organization skills and—”  
  
“What’s wrong with him, anyway?” Dean Thomas asked. There were a few murmurs of assent at this.  
  
“Feeling too ill to teach today,” Professor Snape said simply. “Now, I am going to take this class in the proper direction.”  
  
“What?” Seamus protested. “It’s going great, Lupin’s the best—”  
  
“Silence,” Professor Snape snapped. “If this is what you call the best, you are very easily satisfied, Mr Finnigan… I would expect a first year to deal with a Red Cap or a Grindylow…”  
  
“Well maybe but our last two professors were real rubbish, weren’t they?” Harriet said reasonably.  
  
Professor Snape scowled and threw back his shoulders in agitation. Harriet could tell his two biggest impulses were coming into conflict: wanting to tell Harriet off, and yet continue his usual policy of pretending Harriet didn’t exist.  
  
“Well now you are going to get a lesson up to your proper level. You are all to turn to page 394 of your textbook. Now.”  
  
“But sir,” Hermione exclaimed. “That’s the chapter on werewolves, and we’re due to start Hinkypunks—”  
  
“Miss Granger,” Professor Snape interrupted, giving off the impression of an ill-tempered German shepherd that had been pushed well past its breaking point. “Are you teaching this lesson? No, you are not. You will all turn to page 394, _everyone_ , now!”  
  
The class all opened their books, though with widespread mutinous mutterings. Things did not improve as the class went on.  
  
“So, who can tell me the difference between a werewolf, and a true wolf?” Professor Snape asked.  
  
Hermione’s hand punched the air, but Snape ignored her. “No one?” he asked smirking. “Dear, dear… this class never ceases to surprise me… not _one_ of you can spot the difference between a werewolf and a real wolf? Professor Dumbledore will be most displeased to hear how far behind you all—”  
  
“Please Professor,” Hermione insisted waving her hand in the air. “The werewolf differs from the true wolf in several noticeable ways. First of all, the werewolf’s body—”  
  
“You have spoken out of turn twice now, Miss Granger…” Professor Snape said in a cool, though dangerous voice. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.”  
  
Hermione looked on the verge of tears as she put her hand down. The class immediately rushed to Hermione’s defence but to everyone’s surprise, it was Ronnie who was first and loudest.  
  
“You asked us a question and she knew the answer! Why did you ask if you didn’t want to be told?”  
  
The class went silent. Professor Snape bore down on Ronnie and leaned down dangerously close. “Detention, Weasley… and if I hear you or _anyone_ else criticize the way I teach again you will all be very sorry indeed…”  
  
No one spoke for the rest of the class. Professor Snape made a show of going through past assignments and criticizing both students’ work and Professor Lupin’s grading. Everyone was very relieved when the bell rang, but Snape had not had his final say.  
  
“I am assigning all of you an essay, two rolls of parchment minimum, to be handed in to me directly Monday morning, on how to recognize and kill werewolves. Weasley, you will stay behind to arrange your detention.”  
  
Harriet, Hermione, Kieran, and Marcus all waited outside the room for Ronnie, all of them biting back their anger at Professor Snape, not wanting to risk him overhearing and taking more points from Gryffindor and giving out more detentions.  
  
Harriet gripped her bag tight feeling torn. On the one hand, she couldn’t forget the images of Snape’s relief that Colin was alive, his rage at Lockhart over not wanting to help save Ginny, and his tormented cries when Harriet decided to go on alone after a rock fall trapped Professor Snape and Lockhart in the tunnel leading to the Chamber of Secrets. And yet on the other hand, there were times like today, when he was so cruel and nasty. It was as though he were two different people, separated by a very thin veil.  
  
Ronnie emerged in such a towering mood that she didn’t even stop to talk to them as she stomped down the hallway. Everyone sped up to catch her. Shen she calmed down enough to speak she launched straight into a tirade about Professor Snape assigning her to clean the bedpans in the hospital wing without magic for her detention.  
  
“Why couldn’t Black have hidden in Snape’s office,” she growled, “and finished him off for us?”  
  


### * * * *

  
“It’s gonna be a tough one,” Wood said seriously.  
  
It was breakfast the morning before the match, and Harriet had barely slept. She kept being woken up throughout the night by the raging storm outside. The wind kept hammering the windows and the lightning flashed brightly and the thunder rumbled loudly.  
  
“Oh stop worrying, Oliver, we’ve played in the rain before,” Alicia said with a reassuring tone.  
  
“Yeah rain maybe, but monsoons…” George muttered dismally as he looked up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall.  
  
Despite the weather, the whole school turned out for the match as usual. Umbrellas proved useless as the wind blew them inside out and the rain came in almost sideways. As such, the team was already soaked by the time they made it to the changing rooms to put on their Quidditch robes. Harriet had just finished when there was a knock at the door. Fred answered it and was greeted by more of the roaring wind and lashing rain.  
  
“Thanks,” said the all too familiar voice of Kieran. Harriet stepped around the lockers to see Kieran leaning on his walking stick wiping his waterlogged hair from his eyes.  
  
“Hey Kieran, what’s up?” Harriet asked.  
  
Kieran saw her and beamed. “Hermione gave me a great idea at breakfast; let me see your glasses!”  
  
Harriet blinked with confusion but took off her glasses and handed them over. Kieran took them and drew his wand and tapped the glasses. “ _Impervius_!”  
  
He grinned handing them back. “There, they’ll repel water now.”  
  
“Good thinking, O’Brien,” Wood said clapping Kieran hard on the shoulder.  
  
“Ow, thanks, well wasn’t my idea, but glad to help.”  
  
Harriet beamed putting the glasses on. They didn’t feel any different in the shelter of the changing room, but if Kieran was right, it would be a huge advantage.  
  
“Thanks Kieran!” Harriet said hugging him tight around the neck.  
  
He patted her back. “Eh, it’s nothing. Like I said it was Hermione’s idea. Anyway, you’re going to be great, but just be safe in the weather, okay?”  
  
“I’ll do my best,” she said smiling.  
  
Kieran smiled back before turning and pulling the door open, the wind whipping more hard rain into the room as he struggled against it to leave. Harriet turned back around to look at the team and saw Angelina, Alicia and Katie all giving her very knowing looks.  
  
“What?” Harriet asked, feeling her cheeks getting very hot in spite of how cold she felt otherwise.  
  
Angelina smirked. “Oh, nothing.” She said casually as she finished strapping on her shin-pads.  
  
“Alright team, it’s time. Let’s go,” Wood said with an air of finality.  
  
The team grabbed up their brooms and followed him out. The charmed glasses did help a little bit. They seemed to block the rain blowing straight into her face, but didn’t stop the water that dripped down from her soaked hair, though once she got flying that would lessen.  
  
They moved out to the centre of the pitch. From the other side the Hufflepuffs came forward in their own canary-yellow robes. Cedric and Wood stepped up to each other and shook. In spite of herself, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that even windswept and soaked head to toe, Cedric was very, very handsome.  
  
Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and everyone mounted their brooms. She knelt down to the box containing the four Quidditch balls, opened it unleashing the two Bludgers and the Snitch, and blew the whistle. Harriet kicked off, and while it felt good to be flying, it seemed to amplify the effect of the wind and rain ten-fold. However, thanks to Kieran’s charm, Harriet could see. She circled the pitch as the game commenced, dodging Bludgers and players as she went.  
  
Despite being able to see okay, Harriet certainly couldn’t hear anything but the driving rain. As such, she had no idea what the score was. It was as the first bolt of lightning hit that Harriet finally heard the sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle and flew down for the time-out.  
  
“We’re fifty points up,” Wood explained. “How’s everyone doing?”  
  
“Well aside from being near blind and almost getting my face broken by a Bludger,” Fred grumbled.  
  
“I was thinking, let’s try that charm O’Brien used on Potter’s glasses. Did it help?” Wood asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Harriet replied, though it came out as a stammer as Harriet’s teeth were chattering from the cold.  
  
The team all drew their wands and tapped the bridges of their noses and said as one “ _Impervius_!”  
  
“Right, that seems to have done it,” Wood said. “Let’s get flying.”  
  
They kicked off and Madam Hooch blew the whistle once more to resume play. Reassured that the team was so far ahead in the score, Harriet felt her vigour return. She swooped around, scanning the pitch fervently for the tiny Golden Snitch. She ducked Cedric again, followed by another Bludger.  
  
Another fork of lightning shot down into the Forbidden Forest, so close there was almost no delay between the flash and the thunder. This was getting more dangerous by the minute. If she didn’t catch the Snitch soon…  
  
It happened in an instant. Harriet was making her way towards the Gryffindor stands, scanning the sky as thoroughly as she could when another flash of lightning illuminated the stands. There, in the topmost stands behind the bulk of Gryffindor House was a huge, black dog. It was sitting there motionless looking up at her. What’s more it wasn’t alone. A small human figure was sitting next to it, cloaked and hooded. As Harriet watched, the figure raised a hand and stroked the dog’s fur.  
  
The light faded and Harriet lost sight of the dog and figure.  
  
“HARRIET!” she heard Wood cry. “Behind you!”  
  
Harriet spun around and her heart leapt into her throat. Cedric was flying across the pitch as fast as he could go, flat to his broom-handle, a glint of gold darting along only a few yards ahead of him.  
  
Fighting back panic, Harriet threw herself flat to her own broom handle and shot off as well. The wind whipped her hair and whistled in her ears as she flew.  
  
“Come on!” she growled through gritted teeth as her _Nimbus Two-Thousand_ shot off towards Cedric and the Snitch. Harriet’s broom was faster and she was gaining, but Cedric was way ahead. Furthermore, the wind kept buffeting Harriet here and there. Meanwhile, Cedric, being so much heavier, seemed to buck the wind much easier, flying straight and true towards the fluttering golden ball.  
  
Yet, as Harriet bore down on Cedric and the Snitch, something strange happened. The howling wind seemed to stop, even though she could still feel it. She suddenly realized she was completely deaf. She couldn’t hear the rain, or the wind, or even the crowd.  
  
And then, Harriet felt it. The cold that was deeper than anything the storm could have hoped to unleash. The cold that shot straight to her core.  There was something moving below her and Harriet broke her eyes from the Snitch and looked down.  
  
The whole pitch was full of Dementors. Tall, black, hooded, menacing Dementors, their heads tipped back and following her progress across the sky. Harriet’s mouth fell open in horror and as she did, the screaming grew louder and louder in her ears, the only sound she could hear until—  
  
“ _No! Not Harriet! For mercy’s sakes not Harriet! She’s just a little girl!_ ”  
  
It was a woman pleading, begging, sounding stricken and hopeless.  
  
“ _Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now!_ ”  
  
The second voice was cold and heartless, yet high and nasally. There was no trace of remorse in it as the voices went on.  
  
“ _Not Harriet! Take me! Kill me instead, but not Harriet!_ ”  
  
Harriet felt dizzy now. The world went out of focus. The woman she was hearing, she was going to die. The high voiced man was going to murder her.  
  
The high voice laughed, a cold, mirthless laugh, full of purpose and wicked to the core. The same laugh Harriet had heard in her nightmares for years. The nightmare that always ended with the flash of green light. And there it was. The green light grew in her vision, and the woman screamed one last time. Harriet’s hands slipped from the broom.


	15. The Marauder’s Map

“It is always better to divulge uncomfortable truths than to withhold them. Unfortunately, it is never easier to do so.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“That was a serious bit of flying.”  
  
“Just luck. Wouldn’t have got there in time if I hadn’t been in the area and if Dumbledore hadn’t done… uh, whatever he did.”  
  
Harriet heard, but she did not comprehend the voices speaking around her. _Where am I? What’s going on? What happened?_  
  
“All I know is… that was the scariest thing I have _ever_ seen…”  
  
 _The scariest thing…_ Harriet repeated in her head as the memories started to return. The Dementors had been there; black, hooded, looking up at her from the grounds, and the screaming, the woman pleading. Then there was the other voice, taunting and evil, telling the woman to get out of the way, to stand aside while he murdered her child. Harriet knew that voice, the voice of Lord Voldemort. And now Harriet knew who the screaming woman was. It was her mother.  
  
Harriet’s body felt as if millions of needles were pricking every inch of her skin, as if her whole body had fallen asleep without her comprehending and was now awakening. She was very cold and stiff. Her joints ached as she tried to move. She finally opened her eyes.  
  
“Harriet!” came the relieved voice of Fred Weasley.  
  
Harriet looked around. Her teammates were all around her, along with Ronnie, Hermione, Dora, Scott, Marcus, and even Rachel and Tori. Her teammates were all splattered with mud, while her friends looked as though they had been thrown into a swimming pool with their clothes on.  
  
“What happened?” Harriet croaked as she sat up. She winced as she stretched her stiff joints and Dora and Angelina quickly leaned in to help her sit up the rest of the way.  
  
“You uh… you fell off,” Fred said. He didn’t sound like himself for some reason. He sounded concerned, yet also evasive at the same time.  
  
Harriet rubbed her forehead. It was all coming back to her. She had been flying in the match, chasing down Cedric as he went after the Snitch. Then she felt the cold, and saw the Dementors. Then she heard the voices…  
  
“We thought you’d died or something,” Alicia said. Harriet noted she was shaking, and judging by the look on her face, it wasn’t from the cold.  
  
Hermione gave a stifled sob. Her face and eyes were very red and still full of tears. By contrast, everyone else looked paler than usual.  
  
“But… the match,” Harriet said, trying to change the subject. “What happened in the match?”  
  
By the looks on everyone’s faces, Harriet knew instantly that the worst had happened. They had lost.  
  
“Diggory got the Snitch,” George said. “Caught it pretty much the moment you fell, so he didn’t see it.”  
  
“He actually did try and call it off after he saw what had happened,” Fred added. “Tried to get a rematch, but they won, fair and square. Even Wood admitted it.”  
  
“Uh, where is Wood?” Harriet asked looking around.  
  
“Probably still in the showers,” Fred replied.  
  
“We think he’s trying to drown himself,” George said with a sigh.  
  
Harriet slumped back on the pillow and groaned.  
  
“Oh come on Harriet,” Angelina said gripping Harriet’s shoulder. “Every Seeker’s missed the Snitch at least once.”  
  
“Even your dad missed it a couple times,” Alicia chimed in trying to sound more cheerful.  
  
“And the season’s not over yet!” Fred said, taking Alicia’s cue. “We only lost by a hundred points, right? We just need Hufflepuff to take a serious pounding by Ravenclaw …”  
  
“That’s a tall order, Ravenclaw would have to take Hufflepuff by at least two-hundred points,” George countered.  
  
“They could, I’ve seen Ravenclaw’s practices. They’re new seeker’s not half bad either.”  
  
“Not half bad looking you mean.”  
  
“Shut it, George.”  
  
Harriet kept staring at the ceiling. She had lost her team a Quidditch match for the first time ever. Not just because of the Dementors, there was no way she could have beaten Cedric to the Snitch. He really had won, fair and square.  
  
After ten more minutes, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the Quidditch team it was time to leave, or at the very least time for them all to go take showers.  
  
“We’ll be back later to check on you, Harriet,” Angelina said giving Harriet’s shoulder another squeeze.  
  
“And don’t beat yourself up too much, kiddo,” Fred said in a kind tone. “You’re still the best Seeker we’ve ever had.”  
  
Harriet flushed in spite of herself. She bid the team good night and watched them out before turning back to her friends, who all scooted their chairs closer. It was then she noticed someone was missing.  
  
“Wait, where’s Kieran?” she asked looking around, suddenly worried.  
  
“Here I lie,” came Kieran’s voice from across the wing. Harriet leaned up to look past the foot of her bed to see Kieran laid up in another hospital bed.  
  
“What happened?!” Harriet asked sitting up again quickly.  
  
“He tried to act less like someone with a bad knee and more like a track star trying to get onto the pitch when you fell,” Scott said, his voice heavy with reprimand.  
  
Kieran flushed a little but shrugged. “A friend was in trouble, can’t let a little thing like that stop me.”  
  
Scott rolled his eyes but he didn’t look genuinely upset.  
  
“So… what happened after I fell?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Well, it was sort of a blur,” Rachel said.  
  
“It was hard to see what was going on, for one,” Tori added.  
  
“And you fell; and Dumbledore ran out onto the field and waved his wand at you and you slowed down just enough for Fred to catch you before you hit the ground,” Hermione explained. She still sounded as though she was about to cry.  
  
Harriet blinked. “Fred caught me?” she asked, bewildered. “And he didn’t gloat about it?”  
  
“Yeah… I thought that was weird too,” Ronnie said, scratching her cheek.  
  
“Anyway, then Dumbledore turned and pointed his wand at the Dementors. He shot one of those Patronuses, that Flitwick, Spring and Sinistra made when we first went to Hogsmeade, at them. It was huge though,” Tori explained, awestruck.  
  
“I know, I couldn’t see what it was, it was so big and bright. Think it was a bird though,” Rachel cut in.  
  
“Then Kieran made a fool of himself, so Dumbledore put you both on stretchers and floated you up to the castle,” Scott concluded.  
  
“He was so angry,” Hermione said. “I’ve never seen him like that…”  
  
“Well, he did ban the Dementors from the grounds,” Dora said with a shrug. “And they show up and what happens? They nearly kill Harriet!”  
  
There was an awkward pause. Harriet fished around for something to change the subject.  
  
“Oh, did anyone get my Nimbus?” she asked.  
  
The awkward silence deepened. “Well… yes…” Scott said avoiding her eyes.  
  
Harriet felt her sense of dread beginning to grow. “Well…?”  
  
“Well, when you fell, it got blown away in the wind,” Ronnie said nervously.  
  
“And…?” Harriet asked, dreading the answer.  
  
“And it hit… oh Harriet I’m so sorry, it hit the Whomping Willow.”  
  
Harriet felt her insides clench. She didn’t need to hear anymore. Her past experiences with the Whomping Willow told her what had happened. There was no way her broomstick could have survived such an encounter.  
  
“Professor Flitwick brought it back for you though,” Hermione said.  
  
She reached down towards her feet and picked up a bag. She opened it and dumped the contents onto the bed. Harriet felt her throat tighten at the sight. It was a dozen pieces of splintered wood and a mashed pile of twigs. All that was left of her faithful, fallen, broomstick.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet stayed in the hospital wing with Kieran for the rest of the weekend. Even though she was happy to have a friend to talk to, there were moments Harriet felt a little ashamed he was there. At night, for instance, when the memories of what she’d experienced were the worst. She kept playing the sounds of her mother’s screams over and over again in her head.  
  
She couldn’t bring herself to let Madam Pomfrey throw away the remains of her _Nimbus Two-Thousand_ either. She knew the broom was never alive, and so it couldn’t have felt anything like pain at being smashed to pieces or any affection for her like a pet, but she didn’t care. It was her first broomstick, a gift for making it onto the house Quidditch team at only eleven years old, the youngest player in a century. It may have been just a broom, but it had still been one of her best friends, and she would never forget it.  
  
There was one little thing that puzzled and reassured Harriet: the black dog in the stands. It had shocked her at first, but after thinking about it, she was starting to feel glad she’d seen it. She remembered the dog she’d seen the night she was saved from Privet Drive. Professor Howe had called it a Gurt Dog, a magical dog who protected travellers and children. Had the Gurt Dog been watching over Harriet that night, calling in Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins when she was in trouble? And had the dog been watching over her again this afternoon, making sure she was saved from the Dementors and the fall?  
  
She knew it couldn’t be the Grim. The figure next to it could only have been a child, and she doubted very much a child would be sitting so calmly with a death omen. However, Harriet still couldn’t bring herself to tell her friends about the sighting. Ronnie would undoubtedly panic believing it was the Grim, while Hermione would no doubt find the entire idea absurd. And if there was one thing Harriet didn’t want, it was to give those two an excuse to start fighting again.  
  
Harriet did feel better with all the support that came from her friends. Hagrid brought her flowers, while almost everyone in Gryffindor House, even Percy, got her get-well-soon cards. The most reassuring visitor was Wood, who turned up Sunday morning to tell her that he didn’t blame her.  
  
The most awkward visits were from Fred and Cedric. Fred seemed cheerful when he visited, but it was Harriet who felt awkward around him. This was twice in one year he had managed to pull Harriet away from some kind of danger. First was getting her away from the bomb site in Diagon Alley. Now he caught her as she fell fifty feet off a broom.  
  
Cedric’s visit was the most awkward for three reasons. First was Cedric’s overly apologetic nature and constant reassurances that he really did try and call the match off and never would have kept after the Snitch had he known. Second was how, even though Harriet appreciated his apologies, she still felt the competitive edge. As handsome as he was, and good and kind, Harriet was sure of one thing: she wasn’t going to let him beat her again.  
  
The third was the way Kieran had acted the whole time. He lay on his side for the duration of Cedric’s visit. He had a book propped up as if reading, but Harriet noticed he never turned a page and his eyes weren’t moving.  
  
None of the nights spent in the hospital wing gave Harriet a good night’s sleep. She kept having nightmares, even worse than before. Now not only was she dreaming of evil red eyes and high pitched laughter before a green flash, but now she heard the screaming of her mother’s voice to go along with it, and worst of all the scabbed and rotting hands of Dementors reaching out towards her from the dark.  
  
Needless to say, Harriet was quite ready to get back to the distractions of classes by the time Monday came around. It got her mind off of the dark dreams even if, as she predicted, Pansy and Pixie were beside themselves with glee over Harriet’s fall. Malfoy joined in the gloating as well, and had even removed the bandages. However, unlike Pansy and Pixie, Malfoy seemed more inclined to direct his gloating at the entirety of the team, rather than just at Harriet herself.  
  
The taunting continued into that week’s first potions lesson. Ronnie was nearly pushed to the point of throwing a crocodile heart at them. Harriet was surprised when Dora intervened, throwing a porcupine quill into Pansey and Pixie’s cauldron, which exploded and caused their faces to breakout into itchy hives.  
  
True to form, Professor Snape was torn between his fury and unwillingness to damage his house’s chances for the House Cup and settled for giving Dora a week’s worth of detentions instead of taking points.  
  
“Ugh, I don’t know if I can take anymore Snape today,” Ronnie moaned as they made their way to Defence Against the Dark Arts.  
  
Hermione peeked inside the room and beamed. “Guess who!”  
  
Professor Lupin had returned. He certainly did look ill. He seemed thinner and drained, but he still smiled at the class as they all took their seats.  
  
Almost the moment he opened his mouth to greet them, he was drowned out by the class’ furious outburst about Professor Snape.  
  
“He was only filling in!”  
  
“I don’t know a thing about werewolves, how am I supposed to write—”  
  
“—two rolls of parchment!”  
  
Professor Lupin frowned. “Didn’t you tell Professor Snape we weren’t ready to cover them yet?”  
  
The class broke out into indignation once more.  
  
“Of course we did!”  
  
“He wouldn’t listen!”  
  
“— _two rolls of parchment!_ —”  
  
Professor Lupin smiled grimly. “Alright, alright, don’t worry. I’ll speak to Professor Snape about the essay, you needn’t hand it in.”  
  
“Oh,” Hermione groaned. “I already finished it.”  
  
Professor Lupin chuckled. “Well then, Hermione, if you would like I will take the essay and you can have extra credit.”  
  
This had the effect of cheering Hermione up a great deal, though the effect was not felt by the rest of the class. Despite that, the rest of the class was quite enjoyable. They were starting hinkypunks, which turned out to be small, one legged creatures that looked like solid smoke, and Professor Lupin said were classified as “will-o-wisps.”  
  
“Don’t let the frail look of it fool you, nor its lamp,” Professor Lupin said indicating the hinkypunk’s lantern. “They attempt to lure travellers deeper into their bogs. People get lost and see the little light and think it means safety, but…”  
  
The hinkypunk made an unpleasant squelching noise against the side of the tank and clawed at Parvati who was closest. Parvati leaned back in her chair looking very nervous.  
  
“They are one of the reasons Gurt Dogs were bred in the old days,” Professor Lupin went on. “A big strong dog, scary enough to frighten off hinkypunks, with the senses of a dog to correctly guide travellers through swamps.”  
  
Harriet blinked. This was the second time she had heard Gurt Dogs discussed this year. She raised her hand.  
  
“Yes, Harriet?” Professor Lupin asked.  
  
“Weren’t they also bred to guard children, sir?” she asked.  
  
Professor Lupin’s smile increased. “They were indeed. In darker times when wizarding society did not have quite the control of magical creatures that it does today, Gurt Dogs played a critical role in protecting magical children from rogue monsters. Over time, they became less necessary and many escaped to be wild themselves, though they still carry on their mission, watching travellers and children from afar in case they are needed once more. Anyway, ten points to Gryffindor for a great point.”  
  
Harriet beamed.  
  
Professor Lupin sighed. “This unfortunately has led to much confusion as they are often mistaken for more nefarious beasts and legends, like the Barghest or the Grim.”  
  
Harriet nodded, feeling reassured. She was then visited with a strange thought. What if the Gurt Dog they saw that night hadn’t left when Professor Howe told it that it wasn’t needed anymore? What if the dog had somehow followed them all the way to Hogwarts? Harriet found this thought unlikely, but it was comforting at least.  
  
The bell finally rang and everyone began putting away their books.  
  
“Ah, wait a moment Harriet, could I have a word?” Professor Lupin asked.  
  
Harriet nodded and stepped up to his desk while the class filed out. Harriet’s friends all looked back at her and she waved them on smiling.  
  
“I heard about the match,” Professor Lupin said without preamble as he covered the hinkypunk’s tank.  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Harriet said miserably.  
  
“And your broomstick,” Professor Lupin went on, now organizing the books on his desk for his next lesson. “Any chance of fixing it?”  
  
“No,” Harriet muttered. “Tree smashed it to bits.”  
  
Professor Lupin sighed. “They planted the Whomping Willow the same year I started at Hogwarts. Unfortunately it became a bit of a game amongst students to see how close they could get without being hit. Boys mostly, though I doubt that’s surprising.”  
  
Harriet snorted thinking of Fred and George.  
  
“Well eventually, a boy named Davey Gudgeon ended up in the Hospital Wing and nearly lost an eye. Students were forbidden to go near it after that. No broomstick could have stood up to it.”  
  
Harriet nodded looking at Professor Lupin’s desk though not really seeing it. She was thinking of the Dementors now, and now she remembered Mr Dusk’s words to her in his shop, telling her to ask Professor Lupin about facing a boggart.  
  
“Professor Lupin?”  
  
“Yes, Harriet?”  
  
“I was wondering, sir, about our first lesson, when we were facing the boggart…”  
  
Professor Lupin looked up at her from his chair. “Ah, you finally want to know why I jumped in front of the boggart when it turned to face you?”  
  
Harriet was taken aback. She had expected Professor Lupin to deny he’d done so, or at the very least to remain silent.  
  
“I, well, Mr Dusk said you probably thought my boggart would be Lord Voldemort…”  
  
Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows now. “Indeed I did. I take it I was incorrect?”  
  
Harriet nodded. “I did think of Voldemort at first…” she paused giving Professor Lupin a quizzical look. Although he had not said the name, Professor Lupin had not flinched upon hearing the name like most people did.  
  
“Can… can you say his name too, sir?” she asked curiously.  
  
“Voldemort you mean?” Professor Lupin asked, smiling. “Old habit I’m afraid, one I picked up another lifetime ago.”  
  
Harriet nodded. “Well, anyway, I did think of Voldemort at first, and I even thought of Sirius Black… but then I remembered the… Dementors…”  
  
She hung her head slightly. Professor Lupin grimaced.  
  
“I see, well I hardly blame you there, Harriet. And I take it they caused your fall during the match as well?”  
  
Harriet could only nod. She felt so ashamed of herself. How was it that no one else was as affected by them as she was?  
  
“I understand completely, Harriet… in fact, I think your boggart being a Dementor says a great deal about you, in a very good way.”  
  
Harriet looked up. “Really, sir?”  
  
“Oh yes. It says your greatest fear is, in fact, fear. That is very wise, Harriet.”  
  
Harriet felt her cheeks flush so she looked away. “Doesn’t feel like it… given how much they…”  
  
She clenched her fists in shame. Professor Lupin actually gave her a stern look.  
  
“You are not weak, Harriet,” he said with such sharpness Harriet actually unclenched her hands and felt her eyes widen in surprise.  
  
“The Dementors affect you so strongly because there are horrors in your past that, outside the American students perhaps, no other student in this school has. You were just over a year old when you witnessed the death of your parents. You were too young for the memory to be conscious, but it is still there, locked away. I… imagine you get flashes of those memories when they’re near?” Professor Lupin asked cautiously.  
  
Harriet nodded slowly.  
  
Professor Lupin continued, “And that is how Dementors work. They suck away every happy thought a person has, leaving them with only the worst experiences of their lives. I can’t imagine anyone could experience such a thing and not fall off their broom.”  
  
Harriet felt her cheeks get hot. Once more she felt that sense of connection with Professor Lupin she’d first felt on the train. The same feeling she got around Mr Dusk. She felt a strong compulsion to give Professor Lupin a hug, though not out of any sense of fancying him. It wasn’t really a fatherly feeling either. More like a long-lost uncle or something. Fortunately, Harriet restrained herself, as she didn’t think hugging him would be very appropriate.  
  
“I just… why did they come to the match? I thought Professor Dumbledore banned them from the grounds?”  
  
Professor Lupin's lips tightened. “They’re hungry, precisely because they’ve been banned from the grounds. So far from Azkaban, they’ve lost their usual source of human prey. So everyone gathered into the pitch like that, emotions running high, it must have been irresistible.”  
  
“Azkaban must be awful,” Harriet said. “People almost have a hard time saying the name as they do Voldemort.”  
  
Professor Lupin grimaced and nodded. “Indeed. The prison is set on a tiny island far out at sea, but this is just as much to keep the Dementors away from people as it is the prisoners. I doubt the prison would even need doors if it was set on mainland. Not when the prisoners are all trapped in their own misery. I don’t know of many who last longer than a month without going mad…”  
  
“But, what about Sirius Black? He escaped,” Harriet said nervously.  
  
Professor Lupin nearly dropped the book he was holding. “Y-yes, so he did. He must have found a way to fight off their effects… can’t imagine how.”  
  
“Well, you used a patronus to drive off the dementor on the train,” Harriet said knowledgably, “and Professor Sinistra and Flitwick were using them to clear the path to Hogsmeade, and Professor Dumbledore used one to drive all the Dementors away from the match…”  
  
“Well, yes,” Professor Lupin said. “That is one defence against Dementors.”  
  
“Can you teach it to me?” Harriet asked, feeling eager.  
  
Professor Lupin looked troubled. “Well, I won’t lie to you Harriet it is certainly not an easy charm to cast. Many grown wizards have difficulty with it.”  
  
“But what if the Dementors turn up again? Or I face another boggart that turns into a Dementor?” Harriet asked. She felt her determination swelling up inside her.  
  
Professor Lupin studied her face before sighing. “Well, alright. I’ll see what I can think up, but I will say it’ll have to wait for next term. I’ve chosen a very inconvenient time to fall ill,” he said.  
  
Harriet beamed. “Oh thank you sir!”  
  
Professor Lupin smiled back. “Well run along Harriet, I have to start my next class I’m afraid.”  
  
Harriet continued to smile as she stepped out into the hallway. There was a crowd of Hufflepuffs waiting outside the door.  
  
“Hey Harriet,” Jeremy said as he and Isabella smiled in greeting. He looked healthier than Harriet had seen him in a while, which she thought was good.  
  
However, the looks on all the Hufflepuffs’ faces fell and Harriet turned around to see Professor Snape approaching. He was carrying a goblet that was smoking in a disconcerting way. He glanced around at all the students imperiously, his eyes passing over Harriet as though she were invisible as usual, before he turned into Professor Lupin’s classroom.  
  
“Ugh, so glad I don’t have to take that stuff,” Jeremy muttered.  
  
“Why, what is it?” Hannah Abbott asked.  
  
Jeremy flushed. “Oh, just a potion he has to take for his illness.” He said evasively.  
  
Harriet didn’t get the time to ask what he meant as Professor Lupin beckoned the Hufflepuffs to enter and they all filed into the room past Harriet. Professor Snape exited as the students moved in, looking dark and angry as ever, the empty goblet in his hand. Harriet noted, most disconcerted, that it was still smoking.  
  


### * * * *

  
As November passed into December, the weather quickly changed from grey and rainy to white and snowy. Two weeks before the end of term, the prefects were all put to work helping put up Christmas decorations around the castle. Professor Flitwick actually released real fairies to flutter about his classroom. Harriet was pleased to discover that fairies, unlike pixies, were playful if benign creatures that fluttered about with tinkling giggles.  
  
The main thing that cheered Harriet up was that all of her friends had signed up to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas Holidays. Even Marcus had signed up, his first time ever staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. He usually went home so his father, who lived alone when Marcus wasn’t home, wouldn’t be lonely over Christmas.  
  
There was only one downside to the whole run-up to the holidays. Just before term ended for the Christmas holidays there was going to be another Hogsmeade weekend. Harriet had almost forgotten about her ban from Hogsmeade in the wake of the Quidditch match.  
  
It wasn’t so much not getting to go to Hogsmeade that was bothering her. It was how much she’d been looking forward to doing some real Christmas shopping for her friends this year. Instead she would have to mail order everything. At least Kieran had agreed to stay behind to keep her company, though his excuse was how much his leg acted up in the cold.  
  
Finally the day arrived. Harriet and Kieran saw their friends off. They had just started up the staircase and turned in the direction of Gryffindor Tower when a “pssst” from a nearby classroom made her stop. She and Kieran doubled back and saw that it was Fred peeking out at them from around the classroom door.  
  
“Hey, Kieran mate, mind if I borrow Harriet for a bit?”  
  
Harriet and Kieran both blinked. Kieran gave Harriet a look she couldn’t quite place but Harriet shrugged. “It’s only Fred,” she said in a low voice. She imagined Fred was giving her a Christmas present or something before he left for the Burrow for the holidays.  
  
Kieran nodded though he didn’t look reassured.  
  
“I’ll catch you up,” Harriet said and followed Fred into the classroom.  
  
Fred checked that Kieran was moving on before turning and grinning back at Harriet. This somehow made Harriet suspicious too.  
  
“What are you up to? And where’s George?” Harriet asked.  
  
Fred looked offended. “Such suspicion! All I wanted was to give you a bit of festive cheer before the holidays. Also, George should be making his second trip through the line to Hogsmeade right now pretending to be me,” Fred said smirking.  
  
“Why?” Harriet asked confused.  
  
“Because I’m getting there by an alternate means, and you’re coming with.”  
  
Harriet blinked. “An alternate means? But I’m not allowed to go to Hogsmeade at all.”  
  
“What the teachers don’t know won’t hurt them. Besides, it’s not your fault Black’s after you, is it? And if you ask me, with Dementors lurking about Hogsmeade waiting to spring at the first sign of Black, and Dumbledore banning them from the Hogwarts grounds, you’re probably safer _there_ than you are here!” Fred reasoned.  
  
Harriet pondered that and thought Fred had a point. Fred smiled. “Now, first part is a present…” he said dramatically. He reached into his cloak and drew out a very old looking piece of parchment and laid it flat on a nearby desk.  
  
Harriet leaned over it and furrowed her brow. It was completely blank.  
  
“A blank piece of parchment… how… thoughtful?”  
  
Fred looked offended. “A blank piece of parchment?! Oh no, oh this is so much more than a piece of parchment. George and I owe everything to this beauty. See, George and I, back in our carefree days as sweet, innocent first-years—”  
  
Harriet snorted.  
  
“Well, okay so more innocent than we are now—”  
  
Harriet snorted again.  
  
“Fine, _slightly_ more innocent than we are now!” he insisted. “George and I got in a bit of a bother with Filch over a dung bomb. So he hauled us into his office, threatening us with the usual things, you know: detention, _disembowelment…_ ” he shuddered, “anyway, while we were there I couldn’t help but notice a drawer next to me marked _Confiscated and Highly Dangerous_.”  
  
“Typical,” Harriet joked and rolled her eyes.  
  
“Well can you blame us? Anyway, George dropped another dung bomb as a distraction and I whipped the drawer open, grabbed the first thing I could, which was this,” Fred said patting the map.  
  
“Fortunately, we don’t think Filch ever worked out how to use it. I mean, he doesn’t have a wand for one. Though he probably suspected what it was.”  
  
“But you do know how to work it?”  
  
“Of course! You wanna know how George and I get all that great stuff for parties? Sweets and drinks and such? Well here it is,” he said beaming down at the parchment fondly.  
  
As Harriet watched, Fred drew his wand, tapped the parchment once and said, “ _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!_ ”  
  
Instantly, ink lines began to sprawl across the parchment from the point where Fred had tapped the parchment with his wand. The lines criss-crossed, entwined and splayed across almost every inch of the parchment. Finally, the lines began to form words.  
  
  


  
_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Paws, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER’S MAP_  


  
  
Harriet gasped realizing what the lines had created. It was a map of Hogwarts. But more than that, there were things moving around it. She leaned closer and saw that it was tiny dots moving about. What’s more, each dot had a tiny label. There was one marked “Professor Dumbledore” moving back and forth in what Harriet recognized as his office. She saw one marked “Mrs Norris” moving along the second floor corridor. Another marked “Peeves” was quite literally bouncing around the trophy room.  
  
However, there was something else that jumped out at Harriet at once. Branching out in multiple directions from the school were clearly passages she had never entered before. What’s more, many of them seemed to lead right into Hogsmeade.  
  
“Oh yes, you see? Old escape tunnels we figure from the early days of the school. Only one’s still any good though. There’s seven overall, but don’t bother with these four, Filch knows about them,” Fred said pointing them out. “And of the remaining three, we think we’re the only ones who know, but this one here caved in last year, and this other one has the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance.”  
  
Harriet nodded. This left only one passage, which happened to start right outside the room they were currently in.  
  
“And the last one starts right outside this room, the entrance hidden in the hump of that one eyed crone’s statue,” Fred said. He drew his wand once more and tapped the map. “ _Mischief managed_.”  
  
The lines vanished from the map at once.  
  
“Gotta do that after you’re done with it, or anyone can read it,” Fred advised and rolled the map up and handed it over.  
  
Harriet took it, and stuffed it into the inside pocket of her robes.  
  
“Follow me,” Fred said and crept to the door.  
  
Harriet was too surprised to argue as she followed Fred. He opened the door, peered left and right checking that the coast was clear. They snuck across the hall to the statue of the one-eyed crone. He gave Harriet a very confident wink and tapped the witch’s hump with his wand and said “ _Dissendium_.”  
  
The hump slowly began to open, revealing a tunnel down inside. Fred smirked and stepped aside. “Ladies first.”  
  
Harriet flushed but stepped up and looked down into the tunnel. It was fairly narrow, but she should fit inside easily enough. Harriet couldn’t help but remember the tunnel that led to the Chamber of Secrets. However, by the sound of it, Fred and George used this tunnel quite regularly and the map as well. As Harriet looked at the tunnel, the one thing she was thankful for was that, unlike her trip into the Chamber, this time she was wearing jeans. Harriet climbed up, swung her legs inside, and slid down.  
  
The tunnel slid down quite a ways before stopping, but fortunately nowhere near as far as the tunnel into the Chamber had gone. She made a note that it was probably going to be difficult to get back up. Fortunately, this far down into the ground it was quite warm compared to how it must have felt outside. She stepped out of the way as Fred slid to the bottom and bounced to his feet with practiced grace and illuminated his wand.  
  
“Now, it’s a bit of a walk, follow me,” he said with a roguish wink as he started down the tunnel.  
  
Harriet swallowed and followed. The whole time she felt as though she was forgetting something as they made their way. The floor was uneven and the tunnel winding as they moved along. It reminded Harriet a little of the prairie dog tunnels she had seen on nature programs in primary school. After what felt like an hour, though Fred pointed out it was only twenty minutes, they came to a long staircase.  
  
“Bit of a climb now,” Fred said as he started up them.  
  
He wasn’t kidding. Harriet lost count after two-hundred steps. Finally, Fred stopped and shushed Harriet. He extinguished his wand and Harriet followed suit. There was a crack of light and Harriet could just make out Fred’s face as he peered out through what could only be a trap-door. He gave her another wink and pushed it open all the way. He climbed out and held his hand out to Harriet, pulling her up.  
  
They had come out into a cellar, full of boxes and barrels and crates. Fred closed the trap door and Harriet noted that if she hadn’t already known the trap-door was there, she would have never spotted it otherwise. Fred put a finger to his lips and they made their way towards a wooden staircase. There was the sound of many voices from above.  
  
“The Honeydukes cellar,” Fred hissed and gestured around. Fred was just about to put his foot on the bottom step when a door opened very close by. Fred grabbed Harriet’s arm and tugged her away from the stairs, hiding behind a large stack of crates.  
  
“And another box of Jelly Slugs, we’re near cleaned out,” called a woman’s voice.  
  
“We’ll get the Slugs!” said a young girl’s voice.  
  
Harriet grimaced but Fred simply winked. There were footsteps coming down the stairs and Harriet heard a large set she was sure belonged to Mr Flume move over into the opposite corner while a pattering pair of smaller feet moved in their direction. Fred reached into his pocket and drew out a pair of wands. Harriet gave him a quizzical look but he simply smirked and turned to look up at the frowning faces of the two little Ginsberg twins Harriet had met her last trip into Hogsmeade. Harriet barely stifled a groan, thinking they were caught but to her surprise the girls’ faces split into wide grins as they accepted the wands from Fred.  
  
The girls glanced over at the man who was still sorting through boxes and waved Harriet and Fred on. They followed the girls to the stairs. Fred paused and ruffled their hair in thanks before sneaking up the stairs slowly. Harriet waved her thanks to the girls. She noticed, before climbing out of sight, that both girls were wearing scarves she had seen Basheera wear previously. It seemed, that despite the break in of Sirius Black, Basheera had followed through on her promise.  
  
They came out directly behind the Honeydukes counter. Fred quickly ducked underneath the access flap onto the shop’s floor. Harriet followed, shaking her head.  
  
“You are unbelievable,” she said laughing.  
  
Fred looked as though he’d just won the Quidditch Cup. “Well what can I say? Without the Marauders it may have taken George and I years to find that, so some credit where credit’s due,” Fred said, patting the place in Harriet’s robes where she’d stuck the map.  
  
“What were those wands? They weren’t real were they?” she asked.  
  
Fred grinned. “Well they are wands, and they are magic, but they can’t cast spells. They’re trick wands, the kids love ‘em. Those two turn into rubber chickens when you wave them.”  
  
“Where’d you get them?” Harriet asked.  
  
Fred simply grinned at her enigmatically. “Never you mind, nosey,” he said. “In the meantime, you have a group right over there who look… well a little surprised,” Fred admitted rubbing a hand through his hair.  
  
Harriet turned to see Hermione, Ronnie, Scott, Marcus, and Dora all staring at her as though she were a ghost.  
  
“Ummm… hi…” Harriet said sheepishly, looking around feeling a bit more awkward, thinking her friends’ gawking was going to call even more attention to her.  
  
“Did someone give you permission?” Hermione asked, looking dumbstruck.  
  
“Ummm… not… exactly?” Harriet said. She looked around again and noted that Fred had vanished. “Typical,” she muttered.  
  
“Then… how did you get here…?” Scott asked.  
  
“Umm… here,” Harriet said and led them all to a more secluded corner where she told them about the Marauder’s Map.  
  
“I knew they couldn’t have figured out how to do all that themselves,” Ronnie said bitterly.  
  
“Harriet, you can’t keep this,” Hermione said looking scandalized. “You have to turn this into Professor McGonagall!”  
  
“Why?” Dora asked. “I think it’s brilliant.”  
  
“I can’t turn it in,” Harriet said. “I mean, if I turn it in, I’ll have to say where I got it. You really think Professor McGonagall would just accept it without wanting to know where it came from? And Filch’ll probably know right away it was Fred and George. And if that’s so, Fred and George have been using it for five years now.”  
  
“But Black could be using one of those passages!” Hermione declared.  
  
“Well, I doubt it. Four of them Filch knows about, so they’ll be guarded. Another caved in so you can’t get through it. Another has the Whomping Willow planted over one end so you can’t get in or out of it. And the other’s in the basement of Honeydukes so he’d have to break in, and then it’s really hard to see so he’d have to already know it was there…”  
  
Harriet caught herself and grimaced. What if he _did_ know it was there?  
  
“Well, even if he did know…” Ronnie said and pointed to the nearby window. There was a notice pasted up.  
  
  


\-----BY ORDER OF-----

 

THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

  
_Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.  
  
_

_Merry Christmas!_

  
  
“Black would have to get through all these people in broad daylight to get into the basement before the Dementors started patrolling around, wouldn’t he?” Ronnie said. Harriet smiled, a little impressed that Ronnie was the one to point that out.  
  
“But if it was marked ‘highly dangerous’…” Hermione insisted.  
  
“Okay seriously, Filch considers our mere existence ‘highly dangerous,’ are you really going to take _that_ seriously?” Dora muttered.  
  
“What do you think, Scott?” Hermione asked, clearly looking for an ally.  
  
Scott didn’t respond right away. However, he was giving Harriet a very disapproving look.  
  
“So, by you being here, and Kieran not, I take it you ditched him?” Scott said. Scott hadn’t really raised his voice, but Harriet felt as though he’d slapped her.  
  
“I… well… Fred called me into the room and I thought it’d just be a minute but he showed me the map and we were just kinda… off…” Harriet said lamely. She felt terrible now. She had half a mind to head right back into the basement and sneak back into the castle.  
  
“Yeah, it’s a little obvious neither you nor Fred thought this out,” Marcus said sounding disapproving as well. “It’s mid-December and you didn’t bring a coat…”  
  
Harriet now felt even more ashamed of herself than she already was.  
  
“Well, you can do your Christmas shopping now you’re here at least,” Dora said smiling, trying to change the subject.  
  
“You could just do mail order, like we _have_ done,” Marcus said as Dora began to drag Harriet off.  
  
Ronnie grinned and followed. Somehow Harriet could feel their judgemental eyes on her back as Dora first led them to _Dusk Til Dawn’s_. Out in the cold, Harriet immediately began to regret her own rashness even more. It was very cold and the snow and wind were blowing hard.  
  
Harriet gave Dora some money and Dora went inside while her friends huddled around her both to block the wind and to block Harriet from sight while Dora bought her a coat. Harriet didn’t dare go inside. Mr Dusk knew Harriet too well already and they couldn’t risk that he didn’t know she had been banned given his familiarity with Hogwarts staff. Harriet put on the coat as quick as she could when Dora came back out. Harriet had to admire Dora’s taste. It was a thick, black wool coat with buttons in the form of golden Snitches that managed to block the wind quite nicely.  
  
It now occurred to Harriet that Dora’s plan of having Harriet do Christmas shopping was proving equally foolish. How was she going to shop for her friends when they were all there with her? So after all that she was going to end up having to mail order everything anyway. Overall, Harriet had to admit that she was not overly impressed with herself.  
  
She was, however, able to shop for Kieran, which did make her feel a little better. Knowing his interest in magical healing, they stopped into _Tomes and Scrolls_ , the Hogsmeade bookshop. There, Harriet bought a copy of _Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions_ and _The Healer’s Helpmate_ , along with a Christmas card.  
  
“H-how about we stop into the Three Broomsticks?” Dora asked, her teeth chattering as they stepped back into the cold. “Warm up a bit?”  
  
“Good idea,” Ronnie agreed. They steered into the pub and quickly made their way to one of the back tables.  
  
“Butterbeers all around then?” Marcus asked, smiling.  
  
This reassured Harriet that he had at least begun to lighten up. Even Hermione and Scott seemed less uptight than they had been as they all took their seats. Harriet took out the card she had bought for Kieran and Hermione gave her some ink and a quill. Finally, she smiled and started to write.  
  
  
 _Dear Kieran,  
Sorry I was so thought-less, please don’t hate me too much? I got you these for when you’re working at St Mungo’s someday being amazing and saving lives. Or just curing thick skulls.  
  
Merry Christmas,  
Harriet_  
  
  
Harriet smiled and put the card back in its envelope and gave Hermione back her quill and ink. She was just in time for Scott and Marcus to return with everyone’s butterbeer mugs. Harriet thanked Marcus as he handed Harriet her mug and she drank deep of the warming draught. The bell to the door chimed again and Harriet set her tankard down and froze.  
  
Four people had just entered the pub, and none of them were people Harriet was happy to see. At the front stood Professors McGonagall and Professor Flitwick. Even worse, behind them was Hagrid who was talking to a short, portly man with a lime-green cloak and bowler hat who Harriet recognized all too quickly as Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.  
  
At once, Harriet felt Dora and Ronnie both put their hands on Harriet’s shoulders and forced her down under the table. Hermione drew her wand and hissed “ _Mobiliarbus_!” As Harriet watched, the Christmas tree next to their table rose ever so slightly off the ground and floated over to the side just enough to block them from view before setting back down.  
  
Hermione’s actions were none too soon as Harriet watched the four sets of feet all turn and move straight towards them. As if karma was playing its final trick of the day on Harriet, the group picked the table right on the other side of the tree from them and sat down. Another pair of feet appeared; these wearing sparkly turquoise heels.  
  
“A small gillywater?” came the voice of Madam Rosmerta.  
  
“Mine,” Professor McGonagall said.  
  
“Four pints of mulled mead for our dear Hagrid.”  
  
“Ta Rosmerta,” Hagrid chuckled. In spite of herself, Harriet snorted. Of course that drink was for Hagrid.  
  
“A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella?”  
  
“That would be me,” said squeaky-voiced Professor Flitwick.  
  
“And that just leaves the Minister with his customary red currant rum.”  
  
“Thank you _very_ much, Rosmerta my dear,” Fudge said sounding cheerful. “You know, why don’t you pull up a chair and join us, have one yourself?”  
  
“Why thank you, Minister,” Madam Rosmerta said and Harriet saw Fudge’s feet move as he rose and pulled out Madam Rosmerta’s chair for her.  
  
Harriet was still cursing her bad luck. How long were the professors going to be here with the Minister? It was starting to get late, and Harriet still had to get back into Honeydukes to get into the tunnel. She wasn’t the only one feeling anxious. Hermione’s knees were bouncing.  
  
“So, what brings you to our humble little town, Minister?” Madam Rosmerta asked.  
  
Fudge looked as though he was shifting around, probably looking for eavesdroppers. “What else, Rosmerta dear, but Sirius Black. Especially after what happened at Halloween.”  
  
“When Black broke into the castle you mean?”  
  
“Of course, and Black’s not one to give up that easily. He’ll try again soon, mark my words.”  
  
A collective shudder went around the table.  
  
“Do you think it’ll be much longer, Minister?” Rosmerta asked in a pleading voice. “The Dementors have searched my pub twice now and scared all my customers away. It’s hurting the local businesses here Minister.”  
  
“Rosmerta, m’dear, I don’t like them anymore than anyone else does!” Fudge admitted. “They’re a necessary measure though I’m afraid. Just imagine what Black could do if they weren’t around! Though they are still in a fury with Albus, he won’t let them into the grounds.”  
  
“Rightly so,” Professor McGonagall said stiffly. “How could we possibly teach with those terrors floating around?”  
  
“Hear, hear!” Professor Flitwick squeaked. “And don’t forget some of our students have markedly dark pasts, Minister. The Americans for instance, can you imagine the effect the Dementors would have on them if allowed into the grounds?”  
  
“Furthermore, their last _unauthorized_ excursion into the grounds very nearly killed Harriet Potter and last I checked she is one of the people they’re here to protect!” Professor McGonagall added. Despite the awkward circumstance, Professor McGonagall’s indignation on Harriet’s behalf did warm her heart a little.  
  
“A-all the same,” Fudge said, sounding very awkward indeed. “We all know what Black’s capable of. And not just Black, Kinney has continued to elude the aurors as well.”  
  
“You know,” Madam Rosmerta cut-in sounding thoughtful. “I still can’t believe it… even after all these years. I just can’t believe Sirius Black ever went over to that side. I still remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you told me then what he was to become I’da said you had a Hagrid sized mead.”  
  
Professor McGonagall snorted. “He wasn’t _that_ innocent…”  
  
“How do you mean?” Rosmerta asked.  
  
“Well… there were certainly rumours going around the school at the time that Black was well… different… try as we might at Hogwarts we can’t guarantee students don’t get up to… well… unspeakable mischief…”  
  
“Well he was a handsome lad,” Madame Rosmerta admitted. “Rumours always follow boys like that around.”  
  
“These were… _different_ rumours,” Professor Flitwick said. “A bit more nefarious than usual rumours.”  
  
“Ohhhhh,” Rosmerta said as if struck by dawning comprehension. “You mean the rumours he liked to tie girls up?” she asked.  
  
There was an awkward pause before Madam Rosmerta went on. “It’s the nature of the pub, rumours fly in here. You hear them all every Hogsmeade Weekend.”  
  
“Well, yes, Rosmerta,” Professor McGonagall said. “Unnatural behaviour to be sure, unfortunately we never could find any solid evidence that such activities were going on. Only hearsay and rumour, but certainly did establish a prior record in my eyes, I don’t mind telling you,” she finished, sniffing with disapproval.  
  
“Oh I wouldn’t call it _that_ unnatural,” Madam Rosmerta countered. “But I suppose I can see how that could raise some flags…”  
  
Harriet felt her insides clench tightly. Professor McGonagall’s statement hit Harriet like a Bludger to the stomach. All the wind was sucked from her lungs. Unbidden, the enraged, disgusted face of Aunt Marge floated to the front of Harriet’s mind. Her pudgy mouth forming the dreaded word: _Freak!_  
  
Fudge snorted. “And that’s not even the worst he did.”  
  
“The worst? What could be worse than killing all those people?” Madam Rosmerta asked.  
  
Harriet was barely listening now. She was trembling. She wasn’t like Black, she was nothing like him. Not the man who had turned over to Voldemort’s side after so many years as her father’s best friend, serving the man who killed her parents, then killed thirteen people with one curse. It was just a game she liked to play. She was nothing like him.  
  
“I do… you say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta? I’m sure you recall who his best friend was?”  
  
Madam Rosmerta laughed nostalgically. “Of course I do, never saw them apart, did you? They used to make us laugh so much. Sirius Black and James Potter, the devilish duo.”  
  
“You’d have thought they were brothers,” Professor Flitwick said in a sad tone. “Inseparable…”  
  
“Yes, Black and Potter, and their little gang of course,” Professor McGonagall said.  
  
“Well, at least we’ve managed to get almost half that old crew back, with Daniel’s shop and having Remus back teaching,” Rosmerta interjected.  
  
“Yes, quite the group. I don’t recall a brighter group of students, nor a bigger group of troublemakers,” Professor McGonagall said stiffly.  
  
“Oh I dunno about that,” Hagrid chortled. “Fred and George Weasley sure give them a run fer their money, and don’t think I’ve never seen a student brighter than our own ‘Ermione or Scott.”  
  
Beside her, Harriet saw Hermione’s knees stop bouncing and both her legs and Scott’s went rigid. Harriet could almost feel their blushes through the table.  
  
“Yes, well. There it is. They were all close, but there was no one Potter trusted more than Black. That certainly didn’t change after Hogwarts. After all, he was best man at James and Lily’s wedding, and they even named him godfather to Harriet. Harriet has no idea of that last part, though Professor _Howe_ apparently came quite close to telling her,” Fudge said bitterly.  
  
“Well, knowing early may keep her from doing anything too foolish,” Professor McGonagall said.  
  
“Yes, finding out your godfather and your father’s best friend joined You-Know-Who would be horrible to learn,” Madam Rosmerta said.  
  
“And even that’s not the worst,” Fudge said. He dropped his voice before he continued. “Not many people know, but the Potters knew that You-Know-Who was after them. Fortunately Dumbledore and _Howe_ were working tirelessly against You-Know-Who and had a number of spies. Through one of them, Dumbledore learned of You-Know-Who’s intentions and had James and Lily go into hiding at once. Not that hiding from You-Know-Who was easy. Their best chance was the Fidelius Charm.”  
  
“The Fidelius Charm?” Madam Rosmerta asked.  
  
“A highly complex spell,” Professor Flitwick said. “In which a secret is magically concealed within a single, living soul. The soul is called the Secret Keeper. The secret is impossible to find, unless the Secret Keeper chooses to divulge it. So as long as the Secret Keeper held their tongue, You-Know-Who could search the village the Potters were hiding in for years and never find them. Not even the house.”  
  
“And James picked Black to be their Secret-Keeper?”  
  
“Naturally,” Professor McGonagall sniffed. “Though Dumbledore remained worried. He was sure there was a spy in our ranks. He offered to be Secret-Keeper himself but James refused.”  
  
“And… alas… within a week of the Fidelius Charm being cast, on Halloween of all nights…”  
  
“Black betrayed them,” Madam Rosmerta breathed. It sounded as though she had her hands to her mouth.  
  
Harriet felt another sensation like being hit in the stomach. No one had ever told her that her parents had died on Halloween. That’s what Mr Dusk had meant when he talked about the “occasion” when making sure Harriet was okay during the first Hogsmeade weekend.  
  
Furthermore, another thought occurred to Harriet. The fact that Sirius Black was her godfather must have been what Professor Howe was going to tell her back in Glen Raglan before everyone else interrupted him. Harriet glared at Fudge’s feet. It was another instance where Professor Howe had tried to tell Harriet the truth while it had been Fudge who didn’t want her to know. _Who’s the more trustworthy there, Mr Fudge?_ Harriet thought bitterly.  
  
“Yes,” Fudge said sighing. “He must have been tired of his role as a double-agent and wanted to declare his allegiance openly. What better way than by handing over one’s best friend?”  
  
“Filthy, no-good, turn-coat!” Hagrid roared. The rest of the pub went very quiet.  
  
“Shh!” Professor McGonagall hissed.  
  
“Met ‘im, you know?” Hagrid growled. “Right after Lily an’ James died. Hours before he killed all them poor people… Dumbledore sent me teh fetch Harriet from the ruins. Just got her out, poor little thing, that big slash on her head… but I turn ‘round and Sirius Black turns up on that ol’ flyin’ motorbike of his. Never occurred to me what he was doin’ there at the time, just figgered’ he heard about the attack and showed up to help. All white and shakin’. An’ then I COMFERTED THE MURDERING TRAITOR!”  
  
“Hagrid!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed. “Keep your voice down!”  
  
“How was I ter know he wasn’t upset about Lily an’ James? It was You-Know-Who he was upset about! He even asked me ter give Harriet to him! Knew he was her godfather, but I had me orders from Dumbledore an’ I said no. Harriet was ter live with her aunt and uncle. Eventually he gave in, just said ter take his motorbike to get Harriet there faster. Said he wouldn’t need it anymore… now he loved that motorbike more than life itself, what was he givin’ it ter me for? I say because he knew he’d be too easy ter track on it, and knew ‘e’d ‘ave ter run for it.”  
  
Hagrid shuddered. “But imagine if I’d given in and given ‘Arriet to ‘im, eh? The horrible things ‘e’d have taught ‘er… our sweet little ‘arriet… brought up in the Dark Arts…”  
  
There was a long silence after this. Madam Rosmerta cleared her throat. “But you didn’t, Hagrid, and he didn’t escape. The Ministry caught up with him the very next day.”  
  
“Not… exactly…” Fudge admitted miserably. “It was Peter Pettigrew who tracked him down first.”  
  
“Peter? That fat little boy who was always tagging along after the other four?” Madam Rosmerta asked.  
  
“Hero-worshiped them all,” Professor McGonagall said. “But nowhere near their league in terms of talent. I often had to be rather cross with him which I… I regret… now…”  
  
Professor McGonagall blew her nose.  
  
“Now, now, Minerva… Pettigrew died a hero’s death. The muggle eye-witnesses told us how Pettigrew had cornered Black. They said he was sobbing, crying out ‘Lily and James, Sirius, how could you?’ And went for his wand. Of course he was nowhere near fast enough for Black.”  
  
Fudge shuddered. “I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time… I’ll never forget that day… I never thought anything could surpass it until this summer when Kinney attacked the _Prophet_. Bodies everywhere, crater in the street so deep it had cracked the sewers, and Black was just standing there, laughing… the remains of Pettigrew before him… just some bloody robes and a few… pieces…”  
  
There was the sound of more noses being blown.  
  
“Well, there it is. Black went straight to Azkaban, and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class. Black’s been in Azkaban ever since, until this summer…”  
  
“Has he really gone mad, Minister?” Madam Rosmerta asked.  
  
“You know… I’m not sure… he must have been before he went to Azkaban, his actions were clearly those of a cruel but cornered and desperate man, but I actually spoke to Black during my last inspection of Azkaban before he escaped. He was… disturbingly normal. If I didn’t know better I’d have said he was simply bored. He actually smiled when I handed him the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that Professor Howe had given me to give to Black, just after I rebuffed Kinney’s attempt to capture some of the American refugee children.”  
  
“That evil... vile… wanting to hurt those poor kids, haven’t they suffered enough? What harm can they do?” Madam Rosmerta said indignantly.  
  
Fudge sighed. “Who can say? But having both him and Black loose is a crisis I hoped I’d never have to deal with. We’re stretched to the breaking point between the Dementors and the Aurors trying to find them both…”  
  
“You know Cornelius,” Professor McGonagall said, “if you’re dining with Albus and Sherrod this evening we’d better get a move on.”  
  
There was a chorus of farewells as the group rose and left the table. Harriet remained trembling under the table, her mind racing over all she had just overheard.  
  
“Harriet?”  
  
Harriet slowly turned to see the faces of all her friends peering under the table at her. Their faces were all white, their eyes wide and their mouths open. All of them lost for words.


	16. The Best Christmas

“In my experience, there are very few people who really want charity. That being said, I haven’t met anyone who hasn’t truly appreciated charity when it was genuinely needed, and caringly given.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
Harriet returned to Hogwarts in a daze. She was lucky enough to find Honeydukes still very full with students, who were distracted enough by the various candies, for Harriet to slip back into the cellar and the trap-door. Her legs moved on auto-pilot as she headed back down the tunnel.  
  
Her mind was whirling with everything that she had overheard. Sirius Black was her godfather. That explained so much. In Black’s deluded mind, he must take it to mean he was also her guardian. That’s why he was trying to kidnap her, in his mind, he must figure he had the right to.  
  
She felt sickened inside, both with herself and with everything she had overheard. She should have stayed, should have turned Fred down. She should have gone back to the tower with Kieran.  
  
 _FREAK!_  
  
Harriet stumbled on the edge of a rug as the word stabbed her at random once more. She caught herself on the wall but just stayed leaning against it. She couldn’t bring herself to take another step. Had Aunt Marge been right? Was she a freak, just like Black? It had only ever been a fleeting fancy hadn’t it? She’d only ever acted on it once. But look what happened then.  
  
There was a soft tapping noise behind her, though it did not register in Harriet’s mind at first. It wasn’t until the noise stopped that Harriet became aware that there was someone else in the corridor with her. She slowly turned and her heart sank when she saw who it was. It was Kieran, and he looked livid. She had never seen that look on his face before, and it felt like there was a hot knife in her stomach and someone was twisting it.  
  
She felt her knees begin to shake first, then her arms. She felt just as helpless and vulnerable as she had when Aunt Marge was attacking her. Kieran opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. His face softened and his eyebrows lost their tightness.  
  
“Harriet…? What happened?”  
  
Harriet didn’t respond. Her body moved on its own. She sprang towards him and gripped him tight around the chest. Every emotion she’d felt that day came flying out of her as she began sobbing into his shoulder. Kieran seemed taken aback at this and just stood there for at least a minute before he slowly put his arms around her too.  
  
“Harriet…? Come on, tell me, what happened…?” he asked again.  
  
Harriet shook her head. She couldn’t respond yet. She had to let it all out first. She felt as though each tear was carrying some of the dirtiness out of her.  
  
There was the sound of voices approaching from down the corridor. Kieran checked the door to the nearest classroom and found it unlocked. He awkwardly backed inside, Harriet hadn’t yet let go of him, and closed the door.  
  
"There,” Kieran said hugging her again. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Harriet sobbed a few more times before they finally subsided. “I’m a freak,” she said. She didn’t know why that was the first thing to come out of her mouth, but it was.  
  
“W-What?” Kieran spluttered, taken aback.  
  
He sat her down on the carpet in the middle of the room and grunted as he awkwardly lowered himself down too. Harriet sniffed taking off her glasses and wiping her eyes on her coat sleeve.  
  
“Why would you call yourself that?” Kieran asked reaching up to wipe Harriet’s eyes for her.  
  
“You know the night my aunt attacked me and Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins brought me to Scott’s…?” she asked nervously.  
  
“Of course,” Kieran replied.  
  
“I never told you why she… why I had to leave.”  
  
Kieran remained silent. Harriet could feel his eyes on her. She took a deep breath.  
  
“I was… she… she’d been horrible to me all week—well she always is—but finally she started talking about my parents.”  
  
Harriet paused to take a deep breath and turned her gaze to the ceiling, still unable, or unwilling, to look at Kieran. Kieran remained silent. Harriet wasn’t sure he was even breathing.  
  
“And… the last night she was just awful and I just couldn’t take anymore, and I wanted to feel good, so I… earlier in the summer I stole some clothesline from my aunt and uncle’s shed and I…”  
  
Harriet trailed off again. Why was it so hard to tell him? It was only Kieran, no one else was there. Kieran who was always there for her, who’d stopped being angry with her (though she felt she didn’t deserve it) the moment he had seen how upset she was.  
  
This pause, however, spurred Kieran to speech. “Oh god, Harriet, you didn’t?!” he exclaimed, horror in his voice. To her great surprise, Kieran actually clutched her tighter.  
  
“D-didn’t what?” Harriet asked. She knew she hadn’t given Kieran near enough information for him to have deduced what she’d really done.  
  
“Try to… you know?” he flushed looking awkward.  
  
Harriet blinked. “What?”  
  
“Try to… you know… hurt… yourself… with the…?”  
  
Dawning comprehension swept over Harriet. “Oh! No, oh no nothing like that!” she said insistently.  
  
“Oh thank god,” Kieran said flopping back on the floor, breathing heavily in relief.  
  
“No, no of course not,” Harriet said feeling a bit nettled. “How could you think I would do that?”  
  
Kieran flushed sitting up again. “Sorry, just… well you have had a hard go of things, and… I guess I just worry a lot anyway…” he admitted.  
  
Harriet bumped his shoulder with hers. “Well take that one off your list then, okay?”  
  
Kieran nodded. “Okay. Sorry, go on…”  
  
Harriet sighed. There was no going back now. “So, I took it… just… a silly thing… and so after the attack I wanted to feel… good… so I took it out and I sorta… tied myself up… with it…” Harriet said haltingly as she tried to both find the right words and actually say words at all.  
  
Harriet closed her eyes, waiting for Kieran to respond, and yet terrified of what his response would be. It took him a torturously long time to reply.  
  
“Why would that make you feel good?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t know!” Harriet exclaimed. “It just does! It was just this little kid fantasy I got after reading those _Nancy Drew_ books Hermione got me… Hermione said I reminded her of Nancy and in the books Nancy’s always getting in trouble like getting caught while investigating and tied up but this last time was different… it felt different…”  
  
Kieran didn’t say anything or even move the entire time Harriet explained. She wanted to look at him, or stop to give him time to process it, but now that she’d started, it was really much easier to just keep looking at her knees and plough onwards.  
  
“Well, I don’t know if it felt different, it was the only time I ever did it… it just didn’t feel like I expected it to… it felt _great_ … but then I accidently knocked over the lamp next to my bed and it woke up my uncle and Aunt Marge… I got my hands out and the gag off but I didn’t have time to get my legs loose before they came in. Aunt Marge figured out what was going on and she… she…” Harriet swallowed. “She called me a freak… and a whore just like my mother… and she hit me…”  
  
“Oh Harriet,” Kieran finally said and hugged her tight. “You’re not a freak. And your mother was not… one of those,” he said, clearly so offended by the word he wouldn’t use it.  
  
“Yes I am!” Harriet declared, trying and failing to wriggle out of his grasp. “Professor McGonagall just said so!”  
  
“What?!” Kieran spluttered in shock.  
  
She told Kieran about all that had happened after Fred had called her into the classroom. About the Marauder’s Map, the tunnel into the Honeydukes cellar, how upset with her Scott, Hermione and Marcus had been, about how foolish she’d felt, and finally about being trapped in the Three Broomsticks with Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid and Cornelius Fudge only feet away from them.  
  
“So there I was… stuck under the table and they started talking about Sirius Black and they said he… he wasn’t just the best-man at my parents’ wedding… he—he was my _godfather_ ,” Harriet went on, pausing to take a breath. “And not only that… not only did he betray my parents by _becoming_ a Voldemort supporter… Kieran, he was the one who _told_ Voldemort where they were! How to find them so Voldemort could kill them… so he could kill me!”  
  
Kieran hugged Harriet even tighter. He didn’t speak, just held her tight. Slowly, Harriet brought herself to hug him back.  
  
“But, how does that make you a freak?” Kieran asked, finally breaking the silence.  
  
“Because of something else Professor McGonagall said,” Harriet sniffed. “Apparently there were rumours back then… about how Sirius was like me…”  
  
“Like you?”  
  
“Well more he likes… doing the tying part… but it’s not just that, Riddle knew too…” Harriet admitted. She had never told Kieran about the dreams Riddle had invaded, or perhaps created, Harriet was never sure. “Riddle got in my head, said he knew I liked it… he’d ambush me in dreams… then the last one I was tied to a chair and gagged and blindfolded and he was walking around me, telling me things…”  
  
Harriet trailed off again taking deep breaths. She’d never told anyone about that dream either. Harriet didn’t know why, but she decided not to tell him that when Riddle pulled off the blindfold, she’d wanted it to be Kieran taking it off instead.  
  
Kieran stroked her hair. “You’re still not a freak…” he said soothingly. “You’re your own person and you like that for your own reasons. You’d never murder anyone, or hurt anyone. Well, maybe Pansy and Pixie someday…”  
  
Harriet gave an involuntary snort of laughter. Kieran smiled, reassured. Harriet brushed back her fringe from her eyes. “Promise…?”  
  
Kieran smiled. “Promise,” he said.  
  
“Is it okay if I still think that for a while until it sinks in that I’m not…?”  
  
Kieran chuckled.  
  
“But it’s all… it’s everything… he’s my _godfather_ … my father trusted him more than anything and it’s his fault my parents are dead, why I have this scar, why I had to grow up with my aunt and uncle…”  
  
“I know, Harriet,” Kieran said. “But it has nothing to do with you. Well, with who you are. Having even a vague similarity to him doesn’t make you truly like him in character.”  
  
Harriet nodded. “Thanks… is it okay if it takes me a day or two for that to sink in too…?”  
  
Kieran laughed louder.  
  
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”  
  
“Of course not.”  
  
“Not a soul?”  
  
“Not a soul.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
“Promise.”  
  
“Not even Scott?”  
  
“Not even Scott.”  
  
“…really?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“Okay.”  
  


### * * * *

  
_Slowly, but deliberately, Sirius Black strode forward down a long corridor. It was black, with pillars in the shape of serpents lining the path. The carpet was the deep red of freshly spilled blood. Black smirked at the sight of it before turning his eyes upon a great throne. It was shrouded in shadow, as was the figure sitting in it. Black reached the foot of the stairs leading to the throne and knelt low.  
  
“I have done it, my Lord. The Potters have made me their secret keeper. I am ready!” Black said; his voice trembling with excitement, his lips curled in a manic, victorious grin.  
  
The figure in the throne rose though remained only a silhouette. Then the eyes became visible, but not by any external light. They glowed on their own; red and wild. And then the figure began to laugh, a high, cold laugh._  
  
Harriet sat bolt upright. _Just a nightmare_ , she thought, panting heavily clutching her heart, _just a stupid nightmare_. But it wasn’t stupid. It was terrifying.  
  
Harriet spread the curtains of her four-poster wide enough to see the window. It was still dark outside. She looked at her watch. It was only three thirty in the morning. She flopped back on her pillow, staring at the bed’s canopy, listening to Ronnie’s slow, deep breathing.  
  
She hadn’t spoken to anyone else after her talk with Kieran. She couldn’t help the feeling that to talk with any of her friends, who had been there, would put all those memories back in her head. So instead, she had gone to dinner, ate in silence with everyone else, and from there went straight to bed.  
  
Her talk with Kieran had done her a lot of good, but clearly hadn’t healed all the wounds. Harriet wasn’t sure anything ever would. How could anything heal a wound like that? Harriet kept picturing her parents’ faces as she had seen them in the Mirror of Erised two years ago. _Only two years ago_ , Harriet thought trying to decide whether that felt like ages ago, or no time at all.  
  
She rolled over on her side and hugged her pillow tight. It was then a strange resentment began to well up inside her. Why hadn’t anyone ever told her? Not even Hagrid or Professor Dumbledore. Not even Kieran or Scott’s parents had wanted her to know.  Even Doctor Watkins had been against her knowing. Only Professor Howe seemed to think it was better that Harriet knew. Why? What did he know that they didn’t?  
  
Harriet thought of Hagrid again. She wanted to be angry with him, but somehow the thought of that big bushy head and the way his whole face lit up when he smiled wouldn’t let her. Of course Hagrid wouldn’t have told her. Hagrid loved everyone and everything; he probably would have thought Harriet would be too hurt by that information. But why hadn’t Professor Dumbledore?  
  
Harriet shook her head. It was too much to think about right now. She sat up and got a glass of water from her bedside table. It was then something caught her eye. It was the photo-album Hagrid had given her after her encounter with Voldemort and Quirrell: a collection of photographs of her parents. Hagrid had written to her parents’ old friends for them. Harriet wondered how many may have come from Kieran’s parents.  
  
She opened the book and flipped through a few of the pages. Every page was full of her parents laughing and looking happy. Harriet tried to imagine how her mother’s face would have looked, terrified and pleading for Lord Voldemort to spare Harriet’s life. She stopped trying very quickly.  
  
Finally Harriet stopped turning pages and felt her heart leap into her throat. She had just come across the picture of her parents’ wedding day. There they were, laughing and smiling. And there, right next to them, was the man who could only be young Sirius Black. She’d had a picture of Black all along, of a young Sirius Black either before he turned spy, or had already become one, laughing with her parents and looking just as happy as they were.  
  
Had she never been told he was their best man, Harriet would have never recognized the young man in this picture as Black. In her mind Harriet could not make the connection between the man in this photograph, and the man in all the wanted posters. His cheeks were full and his skin was clear with a slight tan. His hair was long and looked silky smooth. His eyes twinkled as though nothing made him happier than standing there next to Harriet’s parents. Harriet was reminded of young Tom Riddle, how handsome he had been despite how evil he already was, as well as how disfigured he was to become. _I guess looks aren’t everything_ , she thought bitterly.  
  
Harriet sighed closing the album and putting it back on her bedside table. She lay down and stared at it for a while when suddenly she sat back up again and grabbed it from the table. She flipped it back open to the photograph and pulled it out. She put it on the table so the third of it containing Sirius Black was hanging over the edge. She pressed down hard on the part with her parents and gripped the part with Black in her other hand. She took a deep breath and prepared to rip.  
  
She stopped. She didn’t know why she stopped, but she did. It wasn’t the picture’s fault that Black was in it. Nor was it her parents’. She slipped the photograph back into the album and rolled back over to try and fall back to sleep.  
  
When Harriet awoke again it was already very bright outside. The only sound she could hear was the ticking of her alarm clock. It was almost eerily quiet. So quiet she almost felt nervous as she finally pulled back the curtains of her bed. There was no one else in the room. Everyone’s beds had been neatly made, with the exception of Ronnie’s, which was still a dishevelled mess of blankets and pillows. This sight put the first smile on Harriet’s face since she’d run into her friends in Honeydukes the day before.  
  
Harriet slid out of bed and got dressed. She made her way down to the common room and paused as the room came into view. The reason for the quiet became apparent at once. The room was full of people but they were all crowded around the floor in front of the fireplace. It was a mix of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin Americans, all gathered around the fireplace watching it intently.  
  
Harriet blinked and made her way over. She pushed through the crowd a bit and saw they were not watching the fireplace at all. Instead, they were watching Ronnie who was locked in an intense wizard’s chess match with Kelly Werner, the Ravenclaw American who had challenged Ronnie to a wizard’s chess match the previous Christmas holiday break. The two girls were locked in concentration, staring at the pieces and obviously planning their next moves.  
  
Harriet didn’t want to interrupt, so she backed out of the group and looked around for her other friends. She spotted Hermione at a table in the corner, stacks of books and parchment covering the entire surface. Harriet made her way over.  
  
“Oh Harriet,” Hermione said looking concerned. “You look awful.”  
  
“Meh,” Harriet mumbled sinking into a chair beside her. “Where’s everyone else?”  
  
“Kieran and Marcus have gone to find Scott; he wasn’t at breakfast. Dora’s giving Emma and Professor Sinistra’s daughter, Nanette, a ‘proper’ tour of the school,” Hermione explained sounding disapproving. Harriet took this to mean Dora was most likely showing them secret passages and the Room of Requirement.  
  
Harriet jumped but smiled as Crookshanks hopped into her lap and she scratched him behind his big scruffy ears as he purred.  
  
“You know, if… if you want to talk about…”  
  
“I don’t… honestly…” Harriet said as she stroked the cat’s fluffy fur. “I talked a lot of it out with Kieran. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, solicitously. “I can only imagine how upset you must have been, that’s why we didn’t try and talk to you about it last night; we thought you probably needed some space…”  
  
“Yeah, thanks. I did,” Harriet said.  
  
Hermione smiled, looking encouraged. “I admire that about you, you know?”  
  
“What?” Harriet asked.  
  
“How strong you are, I can’t imagine how I would have taken learning something like that,” Hermione said. “I mean, you remember how I was first year after just being away from my parents for a not even a week…”  
  
Hermione flushed returning her attention to her Arithmancy book. Harriet smiled uncomfortably as Crookshanks hopped down off her lap and made his way to one of the couches.  
  
“What time is it?” she asked.  
  
Hermione looked at her watch. “Almost time for lunch. Are you hungry?”  
  
Harriet shrugged. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she did feel like taking a walk.  
  
“If we head out now we can see where the boys are and maybe find Dora too by the time lunch starts,” Hermione added.  
  
Harriet nodded and glanced at the fireplace. “Though Ronnie seems a bit involved.”  
  
Hermione actually smiled. “Yeah, the match has been going on about two hours. They’re probably pretty close by now.”  
  
They rose and made their way back over to the fireplace.  
  
“Hey, Ronnie,” Harriet said but Ronnie held up a hand. She held it there a full minute before finally making a move and looking up.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“We’re gonna head down to lunch now,” Harriet said.  
  
“Okay, I’ll meet you down there; don’t think we have too much longer.”  
  
“Nope,” Kelly said with a grin as she took one of Ronnie’s knights. Ronnie scowled. However, the game did not last much longer than a few more seconds as at that moment Crookshanks, probably attracted by the moving pieces, pounced on the board. All of the pieces cried out in terror and fled as the cat batted at them all playfully.  
  
“CROOKSHANKS!” Ronnie cried out in anger. Harriet, however, fell back into a chair laughing.  
  
Ten minutes later, Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione reached Ravenclaw Tower and Hermione knocked on the door to the Ravenclaw common room.  
  
“Who makes it, has no need of it. Who buys it, has no use of it. Who uses it can neither see nor feel it. What is it?”  
  
Hermione grimaced. “A… coffin…” she said in a hollow voice.  
  
“Correct,” the knocker said and the door swung open.  
  
“That was a bit ominous,” Ronnie muttered as they stepped inside. The room was devoid of people.  
  
“Maybe they already went down?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Hello?” Ronnie called.  
  
There was the sound of a door opening and closing up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories and Marcus came down. He was looking both confused and worried.  
  
“Everything alright?” Hermione asked.  
  
“Um, I think so…” Marcus replied.  
  
“What’s up?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Uh, think you gotta see…”  
  
They followed Marcus up the stairs and into the third-year boys’ dormitory. Scott had put a chalkboard in the middle of the room. On it was chalked:  
  
  
 _Sirius Black:  
What is his game?  
  
When did he turn and why?  
Dumbledore’s spy knew You-Know-Who was after Harriet’s parents, but not that Black was also a spy?  
Talk to Professor Lupin.  
Why did he wait a week to tell You-Know-Who?  
Who was Dumbledore’s spy? (know it’s someone at Hogwarts)  
Behaviour at Halloween?  
If his aim is kidnap, why is he being so bold?  
Why was he quiet for so long?  
Unrelated note: what is Kinney up to?  
Related note: what was the point of blowing up a whole street to kill one person?  
Seriously why did he turn?! And if so, WHEN?!  
Sent to Azkaban without trial (That dangerous or something to hide?)_  
  
  
Harriet stared at the board. What was Scott playing at? She looked down to see that Scott was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his face in his hands while Kieran looked up at them concerned from where he sat next to Scott. Instantly, Harriet could tell Scott had not slept all night. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.  
  
“Scott?” Hermione asked, cautiously as she knelt beside him.  
  
Scott didn’t answer right away.  
  
“I can’t figure it out,” he said finally though he didn’t remove his face from his hands. “Why can’t I figure it out? Something about this whole thing is wrong and I can’t put my finger on it! Why after so many years being friends with someone like James Potter would he just turn! Unless he was always a spy in which case why would You-Know-Who have recruited someone so young?! What would have been the point?! It makes no sense! Neither explanation!”  
  
There followed a moment of silence as everyone looked around awkwardly.  
  
“Scott… you need a break,” Hermione said awkwardly. “You’ve been at this way too long. Come on now, let’s get you some lunch and then it’s straight to bed for you.”  
  
“And then he’s supposedly on the run trying to hide yet he calls attention to himself as ridiculously as possible!” Scott exclaimed as if Hermione had not spoken. “‘Right better ditch my motorbike because it’s too easy to track, but oh no, here’s an old friend who’s apparently nowhere near as powerful as I am, better explode the whole street to make sure I get him then stand there laughing!’” he went on, his voice going all deep with a sing-song tone. “It just makes no sense!”  
  
Hermione grimaced. “Come on, Scott, please. We can figure this out later after you’ve had some food and rest.”  
  
He sighed and let his hands fall into his lap. “Yeah… you’re right…”  
  
Hermione and Marcus helped Scott to his feet and he turned around. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot.  
  
“Sorry,” Scott muttered, more to Harriet than anyone else. “I know it’s not stuff you wanna hear after yesterday I just… I don’t like not knowing… and something’s wrong about this… very wrong… and I’m going to find out what.”  
  
In spite of herself, Harriet nodded. “It’s… okay… just… don’t kill yourself…”  
  
The boys took Scott to the bathroom and got him cleaned up. He did look a bit better and they all made their way down to lunch. Dora and Emma were already there.  
  
“Wow, you look like hell,” Dora said as Scott sat down.  
  
Scott responded with a grumble as he grabbed a sandwich without even looking at what kind it was and eating it rapidly. Dora turned her gaze on Harriet. Her look softened. She opened her mouth as though about to say something but thought better of it. Harriet glanced up at the staff table. There was Professor Lupin, chatting quietly with Professor McGonagall.  
  
Suddenly, something clicked in Harriet’s head that had not clicked before. Professor Lupin had been friends with her father, and so had Mr Dusk. How had she not put it all together before? Why hadn’t Professor Lupin ever said anything? More than that, they had all been the same circle of friends: Lupin, Dusk, Black, Pettigrew, and her father. She remembered Mr Dusk saying how Professor Lupin never went to visit him. Maybe Mr Dusk reminded him of what had happened, and it was too painful to remember?  
  
Harriet then remembered Hagrid and looked for him, but he wasn’t there. “Wonder where Hagrid is?” she asked.  
  
“Dunno,” Ronnie said with a full mouth. She swallowed before continuing. “He wasn’t at breakfast either.”  
  
“Should we go check on him?” Harriet asked.  
  
“I thought Professor Stratton said we’re not allowed out?” Hermione said.  
  
“That was after dinner,” Dora said. “It’s only noon now, plenty of time left.”  
  
They returned to their common rooms to fetch their coats and met back up in the Entrance Hall, with the exception of Scott who had agreed to go back to bed and get sleep. They looked out and saw that there was smoke coming from Hagrid’s chimney. They trudged out into the snow, Marcus in the lead melting the snow in front of them with a flame-charm.  
  
Marcus knocked but there was no answer.  
  
“Hope he didn’t leave the fire unattended,” Kieran said worried, taking in Hagrid’s wooden hut.  
  
“Well I hear something,” Marcus said. “Is that Fang?” he muttered putting his ear to the door.  
  
Ronnie went on tip-toe to peer in the window. “He’s in there; he’s slumped over the table.”  
  
“Hagrid, please let us in,” Harriet called through the door, thumping on it hard.  
  
They heard the tell-tale heavy footsteps of Hagrid coming to the door. The door opened and Harriet knew at once that something was very wrong. Hagrid’s face was red and his eyes were puffy with great tears streaming down into his beard.  
  
“Yeh’ve heard?” Hagrid wailed and leaned down on them all embracing the whole group at once. They all grunted as they were crushed together by Hagrid’s massive, powerful arms, until he finally let go of them all. They guided him back into the cabin where they helped him down into his chair and he slumped over the table once more, sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
“Hagrid, what happened?” Hermione asked patting his massive arm.  
  
Hagrid reached forward and shoved two opened letters across the table towards them. Harriet picked it up. It was marked as being from the school governors. She read it aloud:  
  
  
 _Dear Mr Hagrid,  
Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident. Furthermore, we have accepted Professor Dumbledore’s case in the defence of the inclusion of a student in the teaching of the class and that the student in question played no part in the incident.  
  
However, we do uphold the complaint that hippogriffs were not an appropriate subject for a Care of Magical Creatures lesson of that age level and will ask that they be reserved as a subject matter for OWL study at the earliest.  
  
Yours in Fellowship_  
  
  
There followed the list of the school governors, Dora’s father at the top of the list.  
  
“Isn’t… isn’t that a good thing?” Ronnie asked.  
  
Hagrid sobbed louder still and pointed to the other letter. Harriet picked it up and saw this one came from the _Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures_. Harriet felt a strong sense of foreboding as she read.  
  
  
 _Dear Mr Hagrid,  
We have received an official complaint concerning an attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class. Given the extent of the reported injuries, we have decided to investigate this case further. Please present yourself and the hippogriff in question to our offices in London on 20 April. In the meantime the hippogriff is to be tethered and isolated at all times._  
  
  
“That rat,” Marcus growled. “Sure the school governors didn’t give you what you wanted so you went over their heads, didn’t you?”  
  
"Typical,” Dora grumbled. “I wrote to Dad and told him everything that happened. How Malfoy wasn’t listening when you said to never insult hippogriffs and how he then said something really mean to it.”  
  
“I know,” Hagrid sobbed. “Thank’e for that, Dora…”  
  
“Well, okay so they’re having a hearing?” Ronnie said. “And you said Buckbeak’s not bad. If the governors listened to reason I’m sure the committee will.”  
  
“You don’t know them!” Hagrid wailed. “They’ve got it in fer interestin’ creatures!”  
  
At that moment there was a gagging sound in the corner. Everyone turned to see Buckbeak curled up there, apparently choking on a bone of whatever he was eating. He managed to spit the bone out before resuming chomping on the mass of flesh.  
  
“Couldn’ leave him outside in the snow, all alone at Christmas!”  
  
Harriet and her friends all gave each other looks. On the one hand, Buckbeak certainly wasn’t all that horrible by Hagrid’s usual standards. In fact, compared to Fluffy or Aragog, he was downright adorable. However, Harriet had to admit that for all Buckbeak was concerned, laying there munching, it might as well be Easter.  
  
“Couldn’t you have invited Epeius in too, Hagrid?” Marcus asked.  
  
Harriet thought Marcus had a point, though she’d almost forgotten about the talking horse, Epeius, with everything else that had been going on that year.  
  
“Nah,” Hagrid said. “He’s a wild ‘orse, gets stressed when ‘e’s shut inside. An’ e’s survived way harsher winters than ‘is back ‘ome an all. Besides, ‘e’s stayin’ with Lee and the Jackson’s in ‘ogsmeade for the ‘olidays.”  
  
There followed an awkward silence.  
  
“You just need to work hard to come up with a good case, Hagrid,” Hermione said trying to sound encouraging. “If we all work on it I’m sure we can prove Buckbeak’s safe.”  
  
“It won’t make no difference!” Hagrid said. “Them Disposal monsters are all in Lucius Malfoy’s pocket. Got ‘em scared of ‘im just like ‘e had the other gov’nors scared ‘o him last year!”  
  
“Well, at least he doesn’t have the governors in his pocket anymore, right Hagrid?” Dora asked sounding anxious. “Otherwise they might have sacked you too.”  
  
“You’re right, Dora,” Hagrid said. “An’ I thank yeh and yer dad fer that.”  
  
Dora flushed but smiled.  
  
“Can’t anyone help, Hagrid? What about Professor Dumbledore?” Hermione asked.  
  
Hagrid sniffed. “He’s done more than enough for me already, and he’s got enough on his plate as it is, what with Sirius Black and that Kinney monster runnin’ round, tryin’ ter keep the D’menters outta the castle.”  
  
Harriet grimaced. There was a small part of her that was still resentful of the fact Hagrid had kept the truth of how close Sirius Black had been to her family, but it was nothing at the moment compared to how concerned she was for Hagrid. She had never seen him so miserable and scared before.  
  
“Oh Hagrid, you can’t lose hope,” she said hugging his massive arm. “Hermione’s right, we just need to think up a good strong defence.”  
  
There was a whistling sound and everyone turned around to see that Ronnie had been boiling Hagrid’s large kettle. She hefted it over to the table and fetched some cups for everyone. After a few more minutes of everyone giving him reassurances and a couple cups of tea, Hagrid finally looked calmed down.  
  
“Yer right,” he said “Gotta pull meself together if I want ter win the case. Jus’ not been meself lately, what with Beaky’s case an’ no one likin’ me classes.”  
  
“We do like them!” Hermione said, a little too quickly to be believable.  
  
“Yeah, we love them!” Ronnie said, though Harriet noted she had her fingers crossed behind her back.  
  
“How’re the flubberworms?” Kieran asked.  
  
“Dead… too much lettuce,” Hagrid said miserably.  
  
“Oh how dreadful,” Dora said, trying not to laugh.  
  
Hagrid shuddered. “Though of jus’, letting Beaky go… make ‘im fly away, but ‘ow do yeh explain ter a hippogriff it’s gotter go inta hidin’? An’ I’m scared a breakin’ the law…” Hagrid hung his head. “I don’ t never wanna go back ter Azkaban…”  
  
“Is it really that awful there, Hagrid?” Hermione asked timidly, as though she didn’t actually want to know the answer.  
  
“It’s the worst place in the world,” Hagrid said. “Feel like I’m back there ev’r’time I gotta pass the D’menters at the gate headin’ to er from Hogsmeade.”  
  
Hagrid took a deep breath and went on. “Ya got nothin’ ter do but sit there and rethink all the most ‘orrible things to ‘appen to yeh in yer life. Kep’ thinkin’ about the day meh dad died, the day I got expelled from Hogwarts, the day I let Norbert got, poor little ‘Ermione and the others lyin’ up in the ‘Ospital Wing and knowing ever’one thought I did it…”  
  
“We didn’t think you’d done it!” Harriet said defiantly.  
  
“And neither did Dumbledore,” Marcus chimed in.  
  
Hagrid sniffed. “Thanks you lot, just dunno what I’m gonna do… scared ter go up against the committee, ‘specially with Lucius Malfoy there ta bully them all…”  
  
“How can he get away with that?” Marcus snarled. “Completely undermining our system.”  
  
“He’s a former Death Eater,” Dora growled. “Of course he wants to undermine the system.”  
  
“Yeah, ‘former,’” Ronnie muttered.  
  
“And you got off in the end, and fully restored,” Hermione cut in again trying to lighten the mood. “You got a new wand and everything!”  
  
Hagrid managed a little smile. “Yeah, can never thank you lot enough… though wouldn’t ‘ave ‘appened if the D’menters had their way… wonder if that’s why they affect me more… ‘cause I ‘got away,’” Hagrid said.  
  
“But, you were innocent,” Harriet said aghast.  
  
“Think that matters ter a D’menter? They don’t care; don’t give a damn over who’s guilty er innercent. All ‘at matters ter them is having a few hundred humans stuck there on that island ter leech the happiness out of…”  
  
“How can they keep that place open,” Marcus said sounding even more indignant. “It’s inhuman!”  
  
“Well, let’s try for one thing at a time,” Hermione said. “Our most pressing matter is Buckbeak’s case, and if we want to get as much good material as we can we should start right away.”  
  
And so after another cup of tea each and more assurances of help to Hagrid, they returned to the castle. On the one hand, Harriet’s mind was finally taken off what she’d overheard the night before. On the other, she was worried about Hagrid and what was going to happen to Buckbeak.  
  
On yet another hand, Harriet was reminded of an even more pressing matter the moment they re-entered the school. The first person they saw was Rachel who was walking back up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower alone. Harriet felt her lips tighten at the sight. She remembered Christmas the previous year and vowed one thing: no matter what was going on in her own life, this year Rachel would not go without presents again.  
  


### * * * *

  
As the first week of the holidays passed, Harriet still had plenty to occupy her mind. First and foremost was trying to find anything to help Hagrid with his case. Second was doing discrete owl order shopping for the rest of her friends. Fortunately, the second was going quite well. Unfortunately, the former was not so successful. Every disposal of dangerous creatures case seemed to end with the creature being put to death, with the sole exception of a manticore in 1296 who was only spared because it was too dangerous for even the executioner to get near.  
  
As for Christmas, Harriet first concentrated on something for Rachel. After a day’s thought, she came on a conclusion, but it would involve everyone. Her idea came from remembering Rachel’s own first day as a Hogwarts student, the way Rachel had been so excited for her uniform, just like Harriet had on her own first day. How Rachel had also remarked, just as Harriet had felt, that they were the nicest clothes she had ever had.  
  
Harriet got her friends together and they all planned it out. They would each get her a different item for a whole outfit, so everyone could afford to pitch in. They decided on this because it would give Rachel more presents to open instead of just one from all of them.  
  
Leafing through the fall/winter catalogue from _Dusk til Dawn_ , Harriet picked out a pink skirt with belt, while Hermione picked out a nice make-up set. Ronnie picked out a magenta hairband and a white pair of socks with embroidered Hogwarts’ School Crests on the cuffs. Dora meanwhile selected a tan purse. In the end the girls decided it would be easier to assign the boys items to get to help coordinate the outfit properly. They settled on Kieran getting her a crème-coloured jumper, Marcus a white shirt with Peter Pan collar and finally Scott got her a pair of brown oxford shoes.  
  
Satisfied with this, Harriet turned her attention to gifts for the rest of her friends. She already had Kieran’s present, so she made a list and tried tackle everyone else’s presents alphabetically. Harriet remembered how Dora was a big Quidditch fan, and had apparently done better in her Seeker try-out than Malfoy had the previous year, though as Malfoy’s father purchased brand new _Nimbus Two-Thousand Ones_ for the team, Malfoy got the position instead.  
  
Harriet also remembered how much Dora had coveted the _Firebolt_ at  _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ back in Diagon Alley, and so picked out a working model _Firebolt_ to give her. For Hermione, Harriet felt a bit cheeky, but ordered her a copy of a book called _Technical Rules and Regulations of Lacrosse_. She still hadn’t told Ronnie, but perhaps she could at least nudge Hermione into being more open about her new passion.  
  
For Marcus and Scott, Harriet went out on a limb. She felt a little lazy, but as Marcus liked adventure stories and Scott liked mysteries, Harriet got each of them a boxed set of a series of books called _The Hardy Boys_ which sounded like her _Nancy Drew_ books but for boys, and she thought it would give them both something to read and talk about together.  
  
For Ronnie, Harriet decided on a new regulation size football for her to practice with until summer when she would resume her summer league.  
  
As Christmas drew nearer, and with her gift orders sent off with Hedwig, Harriet felt much of her tensions and worries ebbing away. The castle was gloriously decorated for the occasion. The suits of armour glowed with inner light and sang their usual disjointed Christmas carols. Holly and tinsel streamers lined the walls and ceilings for the corridors. It seemed as though every doorway had a piece of mistletoe hanging from it. Hagrid could be seen working hard hauling in the twelve massive Christmas trees for the Great Hall which Professor Flitwick and Sinistra decorated beautifully with charmed icicles that didn’t melt and tasted of peppermint when picked off the tree and sucked.  
  
The best thing to Harriet’s mind was the sounds that filled the halls. It wasn’t just the suits of armour singing Christmas carols they didn’t know all the words to. It was the sounds of laughter from the thirty or so American students who remained. They seemed thrilled to have the run of the school to themselves once more. Their cheer was infectious and Harriet and her friends found themselves joining in singing along with the suits of armour, playing chess and gobstones matches, supervised trips into the grounds for making snowmen and having snowball fights. Harriet was pleased to see that even the older Ravenclaw girl, Peyton, once so austere, was beginning to loosen up as well and joined in almost all of the fun and games.  
  
Finally, Christmas day arrived. Harriet took a long time falling asleep the night before, anxious to see both what her friends thought of their gifts, and what she got in return. It was just after four in the morning when Harriet woke up. Too excited not to peek, Harriet stuck her head out through the curtains at the foot of her four-poster bed.  
  
Her face split into a wide grin as she saw the pile of presents sitting on Rachel’s trunk. So everything had arrived on time after all. Harriet sighed with relief before looking down at her own trunk.  
  
There was the pile of presents there as well. Harriet bit her lip and grinned as she looked through them. Sure enough there were presents from Dora, Hermione, Kieran, Marcus, Ronnie, and Scott. There was another lumpy package that Harriet knew at once was from Mrs Weasley, and by its softness it was clearly another jumper. There was also a small present wrapped in blue paper, with no name written on it.  
  
It was the final present that made Harriet audibly gasp. It was a long, thin package with a noticeable bulge at one end. Harriet knew what it was in an instant. It was a new broomstick. Someone had sent her another broomstick as a present. Her mind began to whirl wondering who it could be from. There was no chance of it being the Dursleys, and all her other friends had sent her gifts already. Maybe they had all pitched in to get her a replacement like they had done for Rachel’s outfit?  
  
Then her mind drifted wider. What if it was Professor Lupin? No, that wasn’t likely. If Professor Lupin could afford a broomstick, he could surely afford new robes. Then she thought of Mr Dusk. It didn’t seem much more likely, but maybe he had also heard about Harriet’s broom being smashed and decided to make up for lost Christmases too?  
  
Wanting to be sure to open this present last, Harriet set it back down on the trunk and quietly piled all her other presents on top of it. She barely suppressed a giggle of excitement as she climbed back under her covers. For the first time this year she had something to look forward too. Harriet grinned, hugged her pillow tight and fell back to sleep.  
  


### * * * *

  
“Oi! Presents!”  
  
There was a flump noise as something landed on Harriet’s bed so hard it actually bounced her a couple inches into the air.  
  
“ACK!” Harriet shrieked, flailing a bit. She composed herself and found herself nose to nose with Ronnie who was grinning ear to ear.  
  
“Merry Christmas!” Ronnie said.  
  
Harriet rubbed her eyes and put on her glasses, smiling. “Merry Christmas!” She replied and climbed out of bed excitedly after Ronnie.  
  
“Wow, that is way too much chipper for me this early,” Dora said.  
  
“Even at Christmas? Harriet asked, smiling.  
  
“Well, maybe not,” Dora laughed. “Get dressed and get your stuff down to the common room, we’re all opening them up together.”  
  
She was sitting on Hermione’s bed petting Crookshanks. The ginger cat did not look particularly happy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck and a bow on the end of his bottle-brush tail. Dora was already dressed while Hermione was dressing. Ronnie was still in her oversized tee-shirt.  
  
“Merry Christmas, everyone,” Rachel said from behind her curtains. Harriet heard her groan as if stretching and she pulled back her curtains.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” Harriet said, beaming.  
  
Rachel slid out of bed and at first walked past her trunk without noticing the pile of gifts. Then she paused and slowly turned to look.  
  
“W-what…? What-whose are these…?” she asked and bent down picking one up and examining it. “It… doesn’t say who it’s from?”  
  
“Really?” Dora asked crossing over. Her ignorance sounded quite convincing, and Harriet remembered how well Dora had pretended to be Hermione the previous Christmas.  
  
“I… I wonder if it’s like a charity thing or something…?” Rachel asked inspecting another.  
  
“Hmmmm, could be… though sometimes people just like giving others presents and don’t really want recognition for it, they just like doing something nice for someone else,” Dora said and gave Harriet a little wink.  
  
Harriet furrowed her brow. Was Dora talking about just Rachel’s presents, or was that also an allusion to Harriet’s new broomstick? Fortunately, either way Dora meant the wink, Rachel was too engrossed in her pile of mysterious gifts to notice.  
  
Harriet slid out of bed and dressed quickly. She did her best to gather up her own gifts, keeping the broomstick on the bottom, and made her way downstairs with the others. The common room was empty and the fire was burning in the fireplace.  
  
“Shall we go wake the boys?” Harriet asked putting her presents down.  
  
“Scott’s already waking them,” Dora said dumping her gifts next to Harriet’s.  
  
Harriet looked around the otherwise empty common room. “Wonder where everyone else is?” she asked. “I know more stayed…”  
  
Rachel shrugged. “Erica’s probably off with her friends in Hufflepuff. I know Katy Tyler’s in Hogsmeade with her parents, and some of her friends like Alex and Sarah went to stay with her… and some like Cassidy and Tory are probably visiting their friends in other houses too.”  
  
“And Emma said something after breakfast about taking a friend a present but… no idea who that could be… maybe Nanette…” Dora said thoughtfully. “But you’d think she’d be here…”  
  
At that moment the boys finally came down the stairs, looking groggy but cheerful, their presents in hand. Everyone made a circle on the floor in front of the fireplace.  
  
Kieran smiled around at everyone. “Okay, who first?”  
  
“Rachel,” Dora said with no hesitation.  
  
Rachel raised her eyebrows. “Me?”  
  
“Yes, I quite agree,” Hermione said.  
  
Rachel looked sceptical but picked up one of the presents and opened it. It turned out to be the item Ronnie ordered.  
  
“Oh wow…” Rachel said. “I just wish I knew who they were from…” she went on, inspecting the hairband and the socks. “Ohmigosh, they have little Hogwarts’ crests on them too! Too cute!” she squealed and promptly put them on. Across from her in the circle, Ronnie was blushing so brightly Harriet was sure she was going to give it away.  
  
The next present turned out to be Dora’s. “A purse… someone gave me a purse…?” she asked.  
  
“Well… purses are nice…” Dora said sounding worried that Rachel was disappointed.  
  
“They are, I’ve just… never owned a purse before… a-and makeup?” Rachel said, now opening Hermione’s. “My parents would have never allowed me to have makeup.”  
  
Hermione looked worried too, but Rachel actually giggled and clutched it to her chest. “Oh I so have to find out where these came from! Okay, ummm, next present is… oh wow,” she said lifting up the jumper from Kieran. “This is so cute too, and it’s even in my size!”  
  
“Must have been a lucky guess, that,” Kieran said, his eyes twinkling.  
  
“Yeah…” Rachel muttered looking at it thoughtfully. “That… would be a lucky guess… Oh jeez, shoes too?!” she exclaimed. “Okay that’s… that’s seriously too much… they’re so nice too, no one should have spent so much on me!”  
  
“Guess whoever it was knows you better than you know yourself then,” Scott said sagely.  
  
Rachel blushed brighter trying on the shoes. “This is… this is just…” she trailed off, her lip starting to wobble. “This is just too much…”  
  
“Well don’t get too blubbery yet,” Ronnie said. “There’s still a few more there, isn’t there?”  
  
Rachel nodded, this time opening Harriet’s present.  
  
“Wow…” she said holding it up. “It’s like a whole outfit, piece by piece isn’t… it…” Rachel trailed off once more, clearly beginning to put the puzzle together in her mind. Harriet bit her tongue as Rachel finally opened Marcus’ present.  
  
“Ohmigosh… it is…” she said laying out the shirt, jumper and skirt. She sat staring at it, her lip wobbling as she then took off the hairband, and then looking at the purse, as if counting. She then looked up and her eyes moved around the group, hovering on everyone in turn. Harriet could tell she had worked it out in her mind, and she couldn’t be happier that Rachel had.  
  
“You guys…” Rachel said, her voice very quiet, her eyes full of tears as she tried not to cry. “Oh you guys… you didn’t have to—”  
  
“Of course we didn’t _have_ to,” Dora interjected. “But you definitely _do_ deserve it.”  
  
Rachel broke down entirely. She crossed the circle on her knees and flung her arms around Dora’s neck, then moving on to Harriet, Ronnie, Marcus, Kieran, Scott, and finally Hermione.  
  
“O-okay… so what came from who…?” Rachel asked, trying to get her voice back under control.  
  
“I got the skirt,” Harriet said right away.  
  
“The purse,” Dora said.  
  
“The shirt,” Marcus beamed.  
  
“The hairband and socks,” said Ronnie.  
  
“The make-up,” said Hermione.  
  
“The jumper,” said Kieran.  
  
“And the shoes,” Scott said.  
  
Rachel made another pass around the group, giving them all even tighter hugs. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she said dabbing her eyes. “I feel so horrible because I couldn’t really afford to get people anything and I didn’t really expect—”  
  
“Oh please don’t feel bad,” Hermione said. “You’re our friend and we wanted to make sure you knew how much we appreciate you and think you deserve nice things.”  
  
Rachel nodded and looked as though she was going to break down again. “I’m just… I’m gonna go—”  
  
“Please,” Kieran said smiling.  
  
Rachel nodded and gathered up the presents and quickly ran up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories to try on the outfit.  
  
“That so made my year, I think,” Dora said watching.  
  
“Me too,” Kieran beamed before turning his attention back to the group. “In the meantime, who’s next?”  
  
Marcus scratched his chin thoughtfully. “How about we go around and everyone open their present from, say… Dora first?” he suggested. “Go alphabetically?”  
  
“Sounds good to me!” Dora said enthusiastically. “In that case, Harriet opens first.”  
  
Harriet smiled and sorted through her gifts for Dora’s present. It was very soft to the touch. Harriet opened the wrapping and smiled as she pulled out a long scarf that felt like silk but looked as though it was knitted from silver.  
  
“I got it to go with your new coat,” Dora said. “And it’s waterproofed and charmed so the knot won’t come undone unless you want it to, so it should be good for Quidditch too.”  
  
“Wow, thanks Dora!” Harriet said leaning over to give her a hug and promptly put on the scarf. It was very warm and soft, and she couldn’t help snuggling her face down in it as well, pulling it up to just under her nose. She then noticed Marcus giving her a funny look and promptly pulled it down, trying not to blush.  
  
Next was Hermione, who Dora had given a subscription to the popular scholarly journal, _Transfiguration Today_. After Hermione was Kieran. Dora had given him a special spike to screw into the bottom of his shillelagh.  
  
“Thought it might come in handy when it gets icy outside or if you’re ever out, you know, in the woods or something,” Dora said. Harriet saw her shoot a glance at Scott and knew she had probed Scott for gift ideas.  
  
Dora had given Marcus a pair of fine dragon-hide gloves for when he practiced his fire-charms. She gave Ronnie a book entitled _Witches and Wizards in Muggle Sport_ , which chronicled various magical figures who had gone on to take prominent roles in Muggle sports around the world. She had also given Scott a book, this one _Theories on Time and Space_.  
  
“Okay, now everyone open your presents from me!” Harriet said excitedly as Scott finished thanking Dora for his gift.  
  
She sat feeling her heart swell with each gift. Dora loved the model of the _Firebolt_ , letting it zoom about the room freely. Hermione flushed when she opened Harriet’s present.  
  
“Lacrosse?” Ronnie asked. “Weren’t you talking about that when Marcus put up his Muggle Sports initiative flyer?”  
  
“Uh, y-yes,” Hermione said simply. “Thank you Harriet,” she said looking both touched and scandalized that Harriet had been so brazen in giving her a gift focusing on something she was trying to keep quiet.  
  
Kieran in turn loved his magical healing books. Ronnie was delighted by her new football (her old one at home was getting a bit the worse for wear) while Marcus and Scott both looked excited at their _Hardy Boys_ box sets.  
  
Next it was time for everyone to open Hermione’s presents. There was a laugh as it turned out Hermione had given Dora a scarf very similar to Harriet’s. Harriet had expected to receive a book but instead found something even more useful: a pair of flying goggles to go over her glasses, which came with an _Impervius_ charm already set on them. With Kieran, Hermione had followed in Dora’s footsteps and gave Kieran a leather grip to fasten onto his shillelagh for a softer and yet tighter hold. Harriet was now under the suspicion that Scott had made the rounds giving everyone ideas.  
  
To Marcus, Hermione gave a book titled _Intermediate Fire Charms, Curses and Counter-Curses_ , while she gave Ronnie a work-out regimen that she herself had planned to help Ronnie keep in proper shape for football while she was away at school. Ronnie seemed sceptical of Hermione’s expertise in that field, but seemed eager to give it a try. Finally, to Scott she gave a book called _Guide to Master Falconry_.  
  
Kieran gave Dora a subscription to _Quidditch Quarterly_. Harriet loved her gift, a Holyhead Harpies hoodie that looked very soft and comfortable. She put it on at once.  
  
He gave Hermione a cat care kit for Crookshanks, a book about the Tottenham Hotspurs football team to Marcus, and a t-shirt for the Nottingham Forest football club for Ronnie, her favourite team. Finally to Scott he gave a wand-care kit which caused Scott’s lips to twitch as though trying not to laugh.  
  
Marcus had a more universal gift. He and his dad had given everyone smoked ham from their farm. Ronnie gave Dora a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , while she gave Harriet the biography of Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. No one was quite sure how to take her gift to Hermione, which was a bell to put on Crookshanks collar. Harriet was sure it had more to do with keeping Crookshanks away from Scabbers than anything else.  
  
For Kieran, the shillelagh modifications theme continued, as Ronnie gave him a compass to put on the top of his shillelagh. Harriet was starting to pick up the theme, perhaps talking with Scott this summer had given him the idea to help Kieran get out and about and join in Scott’s adventures even more, helping them both have more fun together.  
  
To Marcus, Ronnie had saved up to give him a hoodie in the Hotspurs colours and to Scott she gave a book, _Ancient Runes of Egypt_. Harriet was mildly impressed that Ronnie had looked around enough to pick out that particular book.  
  
Scott had followed in Marcus’ line of thinking and gave everyone almost the same gift, a wand-care kit made by his cousin Jess. Harriet now understood why Scott had found Kieran’s gift so amusing, and both of them had a good laugh over the coincidence. There was one exception in Scott’s gifts, his gift to Hermione. Instead of a wand kit, he gave her a knitting kit instead.  
  
“I remembered you studying the knits in the hat I gave you last year, so I thought you might like to try it out,” he said smiling.  
  
Hermione merely responded by giving him a tight hug.  
  
Now that all their presents to each other were opened, everyone turned to their remaining gifts from friends and family back home. True to form, Mrs Weasley had given everyone personalized jumpers. Easily the worst present was to Marcus, who received a letter and a box of pills from his mother. Judging by the look on Marcus’ face, the letter was not to his liking, and Harriet’s suspicion over who Marcus’ boggart had been was confirmed.  
  
Harriet’s little mystery box present turned out to be a silver bracelet of interlocked snitches. She read the note attached, still uncertain who it could be from.  
  
  
 _Dear Harriet,  
This is only the prototype, but it’s supposed to turn red when someone around you is lying. The accuracy is still touchy, as everyone around you in school may lie about something. Hopefully you find it useful. Please fill out the included comments card with any suggestions and send it to the return OOBox.  
  
Merry Christmas,  
Your Secret Santa_  
  
  
Harriet smiled putting it on. _Heh, maybe this’ll show people like Fudge whenever they try and lie when I’m around_ , Harriet thought.  
  
Fred and George came through for Ronnie and had bought her a new pair of football cleats. She also received a new pair of shin-guards, but no note came with that one.  
  
“Probably from Dad,” Ronnie said. “He’s forgetful like that.”  
  
“What’s that behind you, Harriet?” Dora asked, spotting the broomstick.  
  
“Oh this, right,” Harriet said picking it up.  
  
“That’s a broomstick, that is!” Ronnie said excitedly. “Open it, open it! Is there a note?”  
  
“Um, no, no note,” Harriet said inspecting it. She ripped off the packaging at the end and gasped.  
  
She couldn’t move. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Through the tear in the packaging was a single word, laid in gold into the polished, ash handle: _Firebolt_.


	17. The Worst Christmas

“It is easy to show our friends we care by sharing in their joy. It is much more difficult, but often more meaningful, to show them we care by doing what we know will upset them, no matter the good it may do in the long run.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
“Oh, Harriet! Who gave you that?!”  
  
Harriet had pulled off the rest of the wrappings in a single tug. There was no mistaking it. In her hands was a genuine _Firebolt_. It looked exactly like the one from the window of _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ , and was the larger version of Dora’s model. The polished handle looked like glass, yet now it was in her hands it felt as strong as steel. The inlaid registration number, _FB0021_ , shone gold in the light. The birch twigs were all curved inwards, coming to a fine point at the end. It was even more beautiful than she remembered.  
  
“Number twenty-one,” Ronnie said leaning over to inspect the broom. She sounded breathless. “Harriet, you got the twenty-first ever made! Wow…” she fawned. “It’s beautiful, and I’m not even that big a Quidditch fan!”  
  
“Is there a note with it?” Dora asked. Dora’s question gave Harriet pause. It wasn’t the question itself, but the cautious tone.  
  
“Ummm, not that I saw,” Harriet replied.  
  
“No note, just the packing slip from _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ ,” Marcus said finding the slip. “‘One _Firebolt_ ,’ all it says…”  
  
“Jeez, didn’t even list the price with the packing slip,” Dora muttered. “Damn thing must cost a fortune.”  
  
Harriet stared at the _Firebolt_ in her hands. The fact that Dora was astonished at how much the _Firebolt_ must have cost immediately ruled her and the rest of Harriet’s friends out as suspects. There was no way they all could have pitched in.  
  
Who could have sent it? The thought of it being Professor Lupin was utterly absurd. It couldn’t have been Professor Dumbledore either. He’d allowed her a _Nimbus 2000_ , but that cost only a fraction of the _Firebolt_. It seemed even less likely it could have been Mr Dusk, too. His business was clearly doing well, but not this well. An outfit was one thing, but the most expensive broomstick ever made?  
  
“You think it was Lupin?” Ronnie asked.  
  
Harriet was shaken out of her thoughts by Dora’s voice. “Lupin? Are we thinking of the same Lupin?” Dora scoffed. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great teacher. But, there’s no way he could have afforded one of these.”  
  
“Well what about Mr Dusk?” Kieran asked. “It’s expensive but it’s not impossible. We know he has a history with your parents.”  
  
“Yeah, I thought about that, but…” Harriet trailed off.  
  
“What about Dumbledore?” Ronnie suggested.  
  
“Okay, that is even less likely than Lupin,” Scott scoffed.  
  
“Not impossible,” Marcus argued, “he let Harriet have a broom first year.”  
  
“ _Nimbus 2000_ s aren’t slouch broomsticks, but they’re definitely not _Firebolts_ ,” Dora said. “And wasn’t it McGonagall who gave Harriet the _Nimbus_? There’s definitely no way McGonagall could have afforded this.”  
  
“But he gave her the invisibility cloak too,” Ronnie insisted.  
  
“Yeah, but… that was my dad’s,” Harriet said. “So technically it was already mine, Dumbledore was just passing it on.”  
  
“What do you think, Hermione?” Ronnie asked.  
  
Harriet noticed that Hermione hadn’t said a word since she first asked Harriet who had sent her the broomstick. Hermione was staring at the _Firebolt_ , deep in thought.  
  
“I don’t know… I… well…” she muttered more to herself than anyone else.  
  
“What?” Dora asked.  
  
“Well… it could have been… maybe…”  
  
“What?!” Ronnie insisted.  
  
Hermione jerked out of her reverie. “Oh, just, no, forget it, I couldn’t say,” she said evasively.  
  
Harriet was sure Hermione was lying. Hermione caught Dora’s attention, and understanding seemed to pass between them. Dora’s face paled slightly and her eyebrows knit together.  
  
At that moment, Ronnie’s stomach gave a deep rumble. “Well we can think about it more over lunch?” she said getting to her feet.  
  
There were murmurs of agreement and everyone picked up their presents to take them up to their rooms. Harriet opened the door but was met by another unpleasant sight. Rachel had changed into her new outfit, but she was sitting at her vanity, her make-up kit from Hermione laid out, crying.  
  
“Rachel!” Dora exclaimed.  
  
“I can’t do it, I don’t know how!” Rachel sobbed. “You got me a wonderful present and I can’t put it on!”  
  
“Oh Rachel,” Hermione said sitting on Rachel’s other side. “Here, we’ll help.”  
  
“Yeah, nothing to it once you get the hang of it,” Dora said in a reassuring tone.  
  
Ronnie scoffed. “You two help her with make-up?”  
  
Dora and Hermione both shot Ronnie dirty looks.  
  
“Just because we don’t often wear make-up doesn’t mean we don’t know how,” Hermione said turning her nose up in the air.  
  
The two set to work helping Rachel, while Harriet put her broomstick gently in her trunk. Ronnie went to her own vanity and took Scabbers out from his nest in her sock drawer.  
  
“Someone’s earned himself a big treat at the Christmas feast hasn’t he?” Ronnie cooed and set the aged rat down on her pillow.  
  
It happened the moment Ronnie turned her back. There came a terrible hiss from the doorway and a terrified squeaking from Ronnie’s bed, followed by a streak of orange.  
  
“CATCH THAT CAT!” Ronnie bellowed. Scabbers shot off of Ronnie’s bed towards Harriet’s. Harriet darted forward in an attempt to catch Scabbers, but accidentally knocked over her trunk in the process.  
  
At once, an ear-piercing whistling filled the dormitory. Crookshanks immediately halted his pursuit of Scabbers, back arched and his hair on end, his bottle-brush tail looking like a skinny Christmas tree, he hissed and spit on the spot.  
  
Something small and sparkling raced across the floor, spinning and whistling madly. It was the Pocket Sneakoscope that Ronnie had given Harriet for her birthday. Harriet completely forgot about it.  
  
Ronnie and Hermione were shouting at each other. Rachel was staring at the scene in bewilderment, while Dora was doubled over laughing hysterically.  
  
Harriet picked up the Sneakoscope. As she did, something else caught her eye. The mysterious bracelet she had been given had turned bright red. Harriet felt curious.  
  
She was distracted by the sound of Marcus calling, from the bottom of the stairs, “What the devil’s going on up there?!”  
  
“Crookshanks attacked Scabbers again and I knocked over my trunk and my Sneakoscope came out,” Harriet called down the stairs before returning her attention to the scene.  
  
Dora was still laughing while Ronnie brushed past Harriet in a fury, the trembling form of Scabbers in the pouch of her hoodie. Harriet looked down at her Sneakoscope. It was still spinning in the palm of her hand. As she watched, it stopped. Harriet looked at her bracelet. The colour had returned to silver.  
  
“What’s up?” Dora asked. She had resumed helping Rachel with her make-up. Hermione was fuming, petting a purring Crookshanks who was lounging now Scabbers was out of sight.  
  
“No-nothing,” Harriet said. “Just wishing I’d remembered to take this in to get it looked at during the first Hogsmeade visit, that’s all.”  
  
As Harriet set the _Firebolt_ inside her trunk, she caught Dora and Hermione giving each other another knowing glance. Harriet stuffed the Sneakoscope back into the pair of Aunt Petunia’s old pantyhose and made her way down to the common room.  
  
Ronnie was still fuming, while Kieran and Scott were shifting from foot to foot.  
  
“Where’s Marcus?” Harriet asked.  
  
“He took Scabbers up to our dorm,” Kieran said. “He’s going to be staying there for safe-keeping from now on.”  
  
“Oh, that’s good thinking,” Harriet agreed.  
  
“Yeah…” Ronnie muttered. Clearly Ronnie didn’t think this a fair compromise.  
  
Marcus rejoined them and Dora, Hermione and Rachel soon followed and everyone applauded Rachel’s appearance. Dora might not wear make-up often, but she certainly did know how to apply it. The biggest improvement, Harriet thought, wasn’t the new clothes or the make-up; it was the way Rachel’s smile lit up her face.  
  
With that, they made their way down to the Great Hall. Harriet felt her excitement grow as they got closer. Over the past two years, the Christmas feast had come to be one of Harriet’s favourite events. The food was always excellent and there were the fantastical magical crackers.  
  
They saw that most of the house tables had been cleared away, and only a single house table was laid out in the middle of the room. It was almost full of the remaining American students. Unlike most feasts, Professor Dumbledore and the remaining staff did not sit at the staff table. Instead, Professor Dumbledore sat at the head of the table with Professors Snape and McGonagall either side of him.  
  
Professor Stratton was sitting next to Professor Snape, which seemed to make Professor Snape uneasy. There was also Professors Flitwick and Sprout. Sitting mid-table were Professor Sinistra and her daughters, Nanette and Rosie. Dora’s sister, Emma, was sitting between the twins. She was a head taller than either twin, which made her look even more awkward than usual.  
  
Harriet smiled when she saw Jackson sitting with AJ and Ben, as well as Tori and her parents. Harriet had never met Mr Hoffman before. She had met Mrs Hoffman the previous year when she guest-lectured in History of Magic. Outside the discussion of the Chamber of Secrets and Professor Stratton’s lessons, Mrs Hoffman’s lecture was one of the only times Harriet had ever found a History of Magic class interesting.  
  
Fortunately, the sight of the food seemed to disarm Ronnie and she sat at once, filling her plate. Rachel quickly ran over to where Erica was sitting with older students from Hufflepuff. She showed them all her new outfit, purse and make-up. Erica turned to look over Rachel’s head and gave Harriet and her friends a very warm, approving smile.  
  
“Welcome!” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully, “and Merry Christmas!”  
  
“Merry Christmas, sir,” Harriet beamed back as she sat next to Ronnie.  
  
“And be sure not to miss the crackers!” Professor Dumbledore declared and held out the end of a silver one to Professor Snape.  
  
Professor Snape grudgingly took the proffered end and tugged. It blew up with its characteristic bang and puff of smoke, leaving behind a pointed witch’s hat topped with a stuffed vulture. Quite a few people around the table fought back sniggers. Clearly, no one had forgotten the story of Neville’s boggart.  
  
Harriet couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn she had seen the corners of Professor McGonagall’s mouth twitch and she seemed to be focusing on her plate of food with a little more attention than was believable. Professor Snape merely scowled and pushed the hat towards Professor Dumbledore, who swapped it for his usual wizard’s hat without a moment’s hesitation.  
  
Harriet had just started to serve herself food when the door to the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney. She was moving towards them as if floating, and was wearing a long, green sequinned dress. Combined with her oversized glasses and head-scarves, she gave Harriet the impression of a praying mantis.  
  
“Sybill!” Professor Dumbledore said rising from his chair. “This is a pleasant surprise!”  
  
“I was crystal gazing, Headmaster,” Professor Trelawney said, using her most mystical sounding voice, “and to my astonishment, I saw myself leaving my solitary luncheon and coming to join the feast instead. Who am I to question the promptings of the fates? I hastened down straight-away and I do hope you will forgive my lateness.”  
  
“Certainly,” Professor Dumbledore chortled. “I’ll just draw you up a chair.” He literally drew a chair in mid-air, a very comfy looking one that landed between Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. Professor McGonagall looked just as pleased with this seating arrangement as Professor Snape seemed to feel about his own.  
  
Professor Trelawney sat and looked around the table in confusion. “And where is dear Professor Lupin?”  
  
“Alas the dear man is ill again,” Professor Dumbledore said. “What a pity to fall ill on Christmas Day. However, it is not all bad news; he is spending the holidays in Hogsmeade with his old friend, Mr Dusk.”  
  
Harriet beamed at this news. The thought of old school friends, especially her father’s old school friends, seeming to come to terms and rekindle their friendship filled her with a strong sense of warmth. She caught a glimpse of Hermione and felt her happiness quickly replaced by curiosity. Instead of smiling, Hermione was looking at Professor Stratton.  
  
Harriet was about to ask when she was distracted by Professor McGonagall and Trelawney.  
  
“But surely you already knew of Remus’ condition, Sybill?” Professor McGonagall asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
Harriet wanted to say that Professor McGonagall was being rude (not that Harriet minded), but there appeared to be genuine surprise on Professor McGonagall’s face that Professor Trelawney did not know what was wrong with Professor Lupin.  
  
“Certainly I knew, Minerva,” Professor Trelawney replied, attempting to sound dignified. “But it is in bad taste for the All-Knowing to go about boasting of their talents. I, for instance, frequently pretend as though I am not a master of the Inner-Eye so as not to make others uncomfortable.”  
  
“That explains a great deal,” Professor McGonagall quipped. Harriet barely suppressed a snigger.  
  
“I’ll have you know, Minerva, that I have seen poor Professor Lupin will not be with us much longer. Indeed, he seems aware of the sad truth himself! When I offered to crystal-gaze for him he positively fled!”  
  
“Shocking,” Professor McGonagall muttered.  
  
“Think he saw the Grim?” Marcus muttered, louder than he’d intended. Some of the staff sniggered, as did Harriet and her friends. Most of the American students, who were not as familiar with magical creatures in Britain, simply looked confused.  
  
“Ya-know, I never got that, the Grim being evil and all that,” Jackson cut in. “I mean, dogs are usually pretty good creatures, right? But over here they’re all bad: Grims, the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood, werewolves—”  
  
“I doubt,” Professor Dumbledore cut in, interrupting the conversation, “that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger.” He sounded as pleasant as ever, but his voice did rise perceptibly. “Severus, you made the potion for him again?”  
  
“Yes, Headmaster,” Professor Snape replied curtly. Harriet couldn’t help but get the impression Professor Snape rather wished he hadn’t.  
  
“Excellent, then I’m sure he’ll be right as rain in no-time. Derek, please try the chipolatas, they’re magnificent.”  
  
A small first-year boy Harriet hadn’t noticed flushed and nervously reached for the tray.  
  
“I like dogs,” Emma blurted out randomly.  
  
There was an awkward silence but Professor Dumbledore dispelled it by smiling and raising his goblet out to everyone. “To dogs.”  
  
“To dogs,” everyone toasted back and drank.  
  
In spite of the awkward moments, the Christmas feast was as fun as ever and the food somehow even more so. Harriet and Ronnie got pointed party hats from their cracker and put them on immediately. At one point Erica called Marcus over, where she and the older girls were and they sat him down and talked to him in hushed voices. Ronnie stole confused glances over at them. When he returned, Marcus was grinning in a mixture of bubbly sheepishness and excitement and wouldn’t tell them what had been discussed.  
  
“You’ll see,” was all he said, beaming.  
  
Finally, full to bursting and unable to eat another bite, they all rose to make their way back to Gryffindor tower. To Harriet’s surprise, Hermione and Dora did not join them.  
  
“Aren’t you coming?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Not yet,” Dora said. “I want to ask Professor McGonagall a question.”  
  
“And I… I have a question for Professor Stratton,” Hermione said.  
  
“We’ll see you up in the tower,” Dora said waving them on.  
  
At the portrait hole, Sir Cadogan was having a party of his own with some monks, some previous Hogwarts headmasters, and his fat pony, who was merrily eating a loaf of bread.  
  
“Merry—hic—Christmas! Password?”  
  
“Scurvy cur,” Marcus said. Despite the regularity with which Sir Cadogan changed the passwords, Harriet had to admit they were usually predictable.  
  
“And the same to you, blaggart!” Sir Cadogan replied but he swung open all the same.  
  
They climbed in and Harriet immediately made her way to the dormitory to fetch her _Firebolt_ and broomstick servicing kit. She brought it back downstairs and looked for something to do. There wasn’t anything Harriet could see. The broom was simply flawless. She and Ronnie simply fawned over it for a while before the portrait hole opened again.  
  
Harriet looked up and started to see Professor McGonagall climbing through, followed by Dora. Harriet, remembering the last time she had seen Professor McGonagall enter Gryffindor Tower, felt an odd sense of foreboding well up inside her. Dora looked at once awkward and yet determined as Professor McGonagall strode towards Harriet.  
  
“Miss Flamel has informed me that you have received an anonymous gift, a broomstick, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.  
  
Harriet and Ronnie both looked at Dora. Dora’s cheeks flushed but she continued to look resolute.  
  
“May I?” Professor McGonagall asked but she didn’t give either girl time to respond before she stooped over and plucked the _Firebolt_ from Harriet’s hands. She held it up to her nose, scrutinizing it from tip to tail. “There was no note at all, Potter? No message or anything to identify who sent it?”  
  
“N-no, Professor, just the packing slip from _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ ,” Harriet said.  
  
“I see… well, I’m afraid that in light of the present climate I will have to take this, Potter.”  
  
“What?” Harriet gasped. “Why?”  
  
“Please use your intelligence, Potter, I know you are more intuitive than that,” Professor McGonagall replied curtly. “The most wanted man in the nation is after you and you mysteriously receive an anonymous present? We’ll need to check it for jinxes and curses. Now I’m no expert in curses or broomsticks, but Madam Hooch and Professors Flitwick and Lupin, after he’s recovered, I’m sure will go over it twig by twig to be sure.”  
  
Harriet felt her chest tighten. What if Sirius Black really had sent it? On the other hand if it was supposed to do something terrible, why hadn’t it shown any signs yet? Not to mention Black was trying to kidnap her, not kill her, wasn’t he? Not that she wanted either option but surely if it had been jinxed or cursed it would have done something already, wouldn’t it?  
  
“It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks,” Professor McGonagall said in a softer tone. “Once we are sure it is absolutely jinx free you may have it back.  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Ronnie declared. “If someone was going to jinx it so it killed Harriet wouldn’t they have just set it so it snuffed her the moment she touched it? And how could Black have afforded one?”  
  
“The Black family is ancient and really wealthy,” Dora snapped, “I’m sure he could afford it, and if he’s trying to kidnap Harriet what better way than the fastest broom in the world? Harriet climbs on and it just rockets off to wherever Black’s hiding and waiting. Like any other broom in the castle could catch you on it?”  
  
With that, Dora turned on her heel, stuck her nose in the air and stormed from the common room, slamming the portrait hole shut behind her.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet didn’t blame Dora for going to Professor McGonagall, and she wasn’t really angry with her either, but there was still a distinct coolness between the two whenever they were around each other. This was not helped by Ronnie, who continued to insist there was no way that Black could have jinxed or cursed the broomstick before it arrived.  
  
Even worse, Hermione, Kieran, and Scott had taken Dora’s side, so conversations with them had become rather stiff too. Marcus on the other hand was divided. He didn’t think Black could have sent the broom either, but he did think it was better to be safe than sorry.  
  
While Harriet appreciated everyone’s concern, after thinking on the subject for a couple of days, she had come around to Ronnie’s point of view, that there was simply no way Black could have ordered and had the broom sent on to her. The packing slip showed it had come straight to her from the shop, hadn’t it? It wasn’t impossible to think it had been intercepted on the way, but it was unlikely.  
  
Harriet was also concerned about the _Firebolt_ itself. If it hadn’t been cursed and was in fact safe, how was it going to look after inspection? Professor McGonagall had said before leaving that the broomstick would be stripped down, each tail-twig needing to be checked individually for any sign of tampering. While Harriet had great respect for Madam Hooch, she wasn’t sure the Quidditch mistress was going to be up to reassembling the most advanced broomstick ever made. However, Ronnie reminded Harriet that Madam Hooch had performed a similar inspection of her old _Nimbus 2000_ back in her first year after Quirrell had attempted to jinx it.  
  
What with all the disagreements, Harriet was quite glad when the rest of the students returned and lessons began once more. While it took Harriet’s mind off of the awkwardness, it didn’t go entirely smoothly. In the last few days of the holidays, Marcus had finally gone to Professor McGonagall for permission to start his Muggle Sports Initiative and she had consented.  
  
And so, the night before the rest of the school returned, Marcus’ fliers went up not just on the Gryffindor common room notice board, but on all of the notice boards throughout the castle. Dora, in putting up the flier for him in the Slytherin common room, did admit that particular attempt was probably in vain, but Marcus felt it was important to be the bigger person.  
  
One person did not at all share the point of view the effort was worth it on any level. Percy, upon his return, immediately swooped down on Marcus over his renewed efforts.  
  
“I thought we had this discussion once already, Van Der Lakk?” Percy asked pulling down Marcus’ flier.  
  
“We did,” Marcus growled back. “You said I needed Professor McGonagall’s permission, and I got it.”  
  
“You did?” Percy asked, sceptically.  
  
“Yeah, I did,” Marcus retorted. “That’s her signature right there in the bottom right corner, isn’t it?”  
  
Percy inspected the flier and his eyes narrowed finding Professor McGonagall’s signature approving the posting. He glowered darkly clearly trying to think of some retort.  
  
“Well I still think this is a serious distraction,” he said firmly. “Students have enough on their hands and the Quidditch league takes up quite enough time—”  
  
“You know your sister plays a Muggle sport, right?” Marcus retorted.  
  
Percy’s face went red very quickly. “Of course I know that, Van Der Lakk.”  
  
“Well don’t you want her to do well, then?” asked an older girl who Harriet did not know by name. “Don’t you want her to be able to practice when at school so she can make something of herself?  
  
Percy’s face went, if possible, even redder. “I… that’s not the point, Baker!” he snapped. “But of course I support her.”  
  
“You didn’t even go to her team’s final match the summer before last,” Harriet said crossing her arms.  
  
Percy balked and spluttered. “But-but I gave her—n-never mind,” he finished lamely.  
  
“Dude, here, let’s talk,” came the measured voice of AJ’s brother, Ben Jackson.  
  
Percy’s face hardened. “I’m Head Boy, Jackson, I’m the one who’ll—”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I just think ya got this thing all wrong, see? Ya wanna be remembered for bein’ a Head Boy, right? I mean ain’ that why most folks try so hard ta be one?”  
  
Percy didn’t respond, but Harriet could almost see the gears working hard behind Percy’s eyes.  
  
“C’mon, bin thinkin’ about this hard all break, an’ think we can work towards makin’ ya a splash around here,” Jackson said and he actually put an arm around Percy’s shoulders and steered him back towards the portrait hole.  
  
“AJ, your brother’s sort of a sleeping giant isn’t he?” Parvati asked AJ as they watched the pair walk off. “Like you think he’s all quiet and out of it but then he pulls stuff like that.”  
  
AJ grinned with pride. “Yeah, he got it from Dad. Kids used to pick on him all the time growin’ up cuz he’s so big so they thought if they could take him on it made them tough, until he hurt a kid real bad when he just couldn’ take it no more. So Dad sat ‘im down an’ told ‘im to use his brain instead. Figger people out and what makes them tick so you can disarm ‘em ‘fore they ever throw a punch.”  
  
Lavender groaned. “Tall, handsome, strong, and smart…”  
  
AJ laughed. “I’d watch out about that if I was you. Yer gonna have tah fight real hard tah get Lindsey Gallifrey’s claws outta him.”  
  
Lavender gave an indignant “humf” and the three girls moved off to the dormitories.  
  
“You know, those three are the least likely trio of friends I think I could ever imagine,” Marcus said chuckling. He tacked his flier back up but jumped as the older sixth year girl who had talked back to Percy ruffled his hair.  
  
“You got spunk kid, just be careful with it. Now let’s see what kind of sports we’re looking at.”  
  
Marcus flushed. “Not much different than before, just added lacrosse for my friend Hermione and some other older girls suggested cheer-leading.”  
  
“Cheer-leading?” the older girl snorted. “That really count as a sport?”  
  
“You ever try doing five or six back-flips in a row or throw another girl ten feet in the air and catching her?” Erica Quoy asked.  
  
The sixth-year girl rolled her eyes. “Sounds more like gymnastics.”  
  
“Hey, gymnastics is a sport,” Angelina said.  
  
“Yeah, Muggles do it in their Olympics, it’s a big thing,” agreed Katie Bell  
  
The older girl held up her hands. “Okay, okay, you got me. Besides, says here on the flier they won’t start till next fall anyway.”  
  
“Yeah,” Marcus admitted, glumly. “Too far along in the year to get any leagues seriously started, but lots of time to get it ready for next year.”  
  
At that moment Harriet’s attention was pulled away by Wood. “Harriet, been looking for you. Had a good Christmas?”  
  
“Yeah it was—”  
  
“Listen, I did a lot of thinking over the holidays, Harriet. After the last match, well, if the Dementors turn up again…”  
  
“I-I’m working on it,” Harriet said quickly, “Professor Lupin said he'd give me lessons in how to fight them off after the holidays.”  
  
“Excellent,” Wood said sounding relieved. “Well in that case, have you ordered a new broom yet?”  
  
“No, not yet,” Harriet admitted, thinking of the _Firebolt_ and feeling her heart sink.  
  
“What? The match isn't that far off you know? Better get a move on because there's no way I'm letting you fly that old Shooting Star against Ravenclaw. You're a good flier Harriet but not even your father could pull that off.”  
  
“She got a _Firebolt_ for Christmas,” Ronnie said bitterly.  
  
Wood's eyes seemed to double in size. “No! A _Firebolt_? Seriously!? A real _Firebolt_?”  
  
Harriet sighed. “I did, but not anymore, it was confiscated.”  
  
“Confiscated? Why?”  
  
“Professor McGonagall thinks it was probably sent to me by Sirius Black.”  
  
“Sirius Black? Why on earth would he send you a broomstick?”  
  
Harriet grimaced. “He’s supposed to be after me…”  
  
Wood shook his head. “But Black’s on the run, isn’t he? The whole country’s looking for him. How’s he supposed to just walk into _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ and buy a several hundred galleon broomstick?”  
  
“I know,” Harriet groaned. “But Professor McGonagall still wants it stripped down.”  
  
Wood’s face drained of colour. “I’ll go and talk to her, Harriet, get her to see reason. She wants the Quidditch Cup as much as we do. Don’t worry Harriet, I’ll get her to see reason. A _Firebolt_ …”  
  
Wood wandered off in revelry at the thought of Harriet flying a _Firebolt_ for their team.  
  
“What do you think the odds are on McGonagall giving in for Wood?”  
  
“Probably the same odds as the Dursleys being nice to me,” Harriet admitted, glumly.  
  
The next day classes resumed. The first class was Care of Magical Creatures, and Hagrid had planned ahead and built a bonfire for them and they spent a very enjoyable lesson fetching wood to keep the fire going whilst studying fire salamanders. Divination however was not nearly as fun, though Harriet had not expected it to be. Professor Trelawney had started teaching them palmistry, and while Harriet was pleased she did not somehow see the Grim in Harriet’s palm, she did declare that Harriet had the shortest lifeline she had ever seen.  
  
Harriet was most anxious to get to Defence Against the Dark Arts. After her talk with Wood, she was more eager than ever to get started on her anti-Dementor lessons.  
  
“Ah yes,” Professor Lupin said when Harriet finally got the chance to remind him after class. “Let me see… does eight-o-clock Thursday evening sound alright? We could use the old History of Magic classroom. I did put some thought into this over the holidays, as we obviously can’t bring a real dementor into the school.”  
  
“That sounds great, Professor, I’ll see you then,” Harriet said and hurried off to join her friends waiting at the door.  
  
“Still looks ill,” Ronnie said. “Wonder what’s wrong with him?”  
  
“Isn’t that obvious by now?” Hermione muttered, coolly.  
  
“Obviously not,” Ronnie retorted.  
  
“Drop it, you two,” Marcus grumbled. “You’ve been having goes at each other since Christmas, can’t you both give it a rest?”  
  
The group fell silent as they passed a group of third year Hufflepuffs. Isabella and the rest smiled warmly and waved in greeting as they passed. Harriet waved back though she noted that just like Professor Lupin, Jeremy also looked as though he’d been ill.  
  
“I wonder if Jeremy has the same illness as Professor Lupin?” Harriet asked as the Hufflepuffs got out of hearing range.  
  
“No idea,” Kieran said solemnly. “It is a bit hit or miss with both, isn’t it?”  
  
Harriet glanced at Hermione and noticed that her jaw was set and she was determinedly not meeting anyone’s eyes. Harriet knew Hermione too well to be fooled. Hermione knew something, but if she was looking that resolute in not mentioning it, Harriet knew it would be no good getting it out of her anytime soon.  
  


### * * * *

  
Finally, Thursday night arrived. Harriet arrived early for the lesson and lit the lamps eagerly. Fortunately she didn’t have to wait long. It was only another five minutes before Professor Lupin entered, carrying a large packing case. He heaved it onto Professor Binns’ desk and it rattled and shook as he backed away from it.  
  
“What’s in there?” Harriet asked, trying not to sound nervous.  
  
“Oh, another boggart,” Professor Lupin said, wiping his brown and taking off his cloak. “I’ve been scouring the castle for one all week. Managed to find this one in Mr Filch’s filing cabinet. When the boggart comes out and sees you, it should become a dementor. It won’t be a real dementor, but it will mimic many of the same qualities.”  
  
“Oh, good,” Harriet said, now trying to sound eager.  
  
“So, let me see,” Professor Lupin said distractedly as he drew his wand. “I don’t mind telling you, Harriet, this charm I’m about to teach you is very advanced magic, well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Indeed, quite a few adult witches and wizards have a very hard time of it.”  
  
Harriet swallowed, torn between apprehension and excitement at learning such a powerful charm so early.  
  
“How does the charm work?” she asked drawing her own wand. “I know it conjures one of those animal things…”  
  
“Ah, well not all do. That is what is known as a corporeal patronus. Those are only formed when that charm is produced perfectly. I should also add that when cast right, corporeal patronuses can also carry uninterceptable messages across hundreds of miles. But for now we shall focus on the basics,” Professor Lupin explained.  
  
“At the most basic level, a patronus is a projection of the casters innermost hopes and happiness. These are the things that dementors feed upon, but as the patronus is not human, and thus cannot feel fear or despair, the dementors cannot hurt it. They cannot stand to remain in the presence of such strong projections of these emotions.”  
  
Harriet nodded, digesting this information. “And the incantation is ‘ _expecto patronum_?’” she asked.  
  
“Very good!” Professor Lupin said, smiling. “You know, I think you just might be able to do it. Yes, that is the incantation to summon a patronus. But there’s more to it than just saying the words. The charm will only work properly if you are focusing with all your might on your happiest memory. This is why some people have such a hard time with the charm, because they either do not have happy enough memories, or they don’t know how to recognize what their happy memories are.”  
  
Professor Lupin moved to the trunk and put a hand on the lid. It rattled angrily in response. “Now, I’ll give you a bit to think of a truly happy memory. One that brings a smile to your face any time you think of it, no matter how low you’re feeling.”  
  
Harriet nodded and closed her eyes tight, thinking. A really happy memory. She thought of the _Firebolt_ and decided that the first time she ever flew a broomstick was a very happy memory. She had felt so free, had beaten Malfoy, and got put on the house Quidditch team for it.  
  
“Okay, got it,” Harriet said opening her eyes.  
  
“Alright then,” Professor Lupin said. “Let’s do a dry-run first. Hold you wand out and say the incantation aloud.”  
  
Harriet gritted her teeth, concentrating hard on the feeling of flying that first time. She raised her wand and said as clearly as she could, “ _Expecto Patronum_.”  
  
Her wand gave a twitch and a puff of silver-white vapour shot out of the end of her wand, floating in front of her for a few moments before dissipating.  
  
“Very good!” Professor Lupin said. “An excellent start. Now, are you ready to try it on a dementor?”  
  
“Yes,” Harriet said confidently. It hadn’t been the most impressive sight, but it was certainly a start.  
  
However, as Professor Lupin fiddled with the clasps on the packing case, another thought occurred to Harriet. When the boggart-dementor came out, if it mimicked the effects of a dementor, she was about to hear her mother screaming again. Unless she got the patronus right, but even then, what if she could still hear her mother? How well would she be able to keep thinking of happy thoughts and keep the patronus going if she was also hearing her mother’s final words?  
  
Professor Lupin gave Harriet a nod and whipped the lid open. Slowly, eerily, a dementor rose from the trunk. The candles and lamps went out and Harriet felt the cold steal over her. Her throat clenched as she saw the rotted, scabbed hands grip the edge of the case as the dementor lifted itself out and floated to the ground. It would have been graceful if the creature wasn’t so horrifying.  
  
Harriet steeled herself and pointed her wand at the dementor. “ _Expecto Patronum_!” she cried. Nothing happened. “ _Expecto Patronum_!”  
  
Then it happened. The room seemed to dissolve into white fog. She felt as though she was falling through the air. Then, it started; her mother’s voice began ringing loudly in her ears.  
  
“ _No! Not Harriet! For mercy’s sakes not Harriet! She’s just a little girl!”  
  
“Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now_!”  
  
“Harriet!”  
  
The fog vanished and Harriet blinked as the real world returned. She was lying on her back on the floor. The lamps and candles were lit again and Professor Lupin was leaning over her, his face very pale.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked.  
  
“Y-yeah,” Harriet muttered, sitting up. “Sorry…”  
  
“Don’t be sorry, Harriet,” Professor Lupin said, helping Harriet up and over to lean against the desk. He reached into his pocket and drew out a Chocolate Frog. “Eat this first, before we try again. Don’t worry, honestly, I didn’t expect you to get it. I would have been astounded if you had, but really, no one in my NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts class got it first time either.”  
  
Harriet nodded. She ate the Chocolate Frog as fast as she could and stood up. “Okay, so… that memory probably wasn’t strong enough, was it?”  
  
“Perhaps not,” Professor Lupin said. “Or many get too focused on facing the threat of the dementor and forget to keep that happy thought in their head.”  
  
Harriet flushed. She hadn’t been thinking of her happy thought, simply pointing her wand at the dementor and saying the incantation. She tried to think of a happier memory anyway, just in case. How she felt after stopping Riddle last spring and saving the school should definitely count.  
  
Harriet drew her wand again and faced the trunk. “Okay, I’m ready.”  
  
Professor Lupin nodded and put his hand on the lid once more. Harriet forced her mind to focus on the memory of last spring and the elation she’d felt with the school returned to normal.  
  
Professor Lupin pulled open the trunk. Once more, the dementor rose menacingly from its depths. The deep, rattling breath sounded again and Harriet aimed her wand.  
  
“ _Expecto Patronum_!” she yelled with all her might. “ _Expecto Patronum_!”  
  
The white fog engulfed her again. She was vaguely aware of dark shapes moving around her and this time instead of floating, she felt as though she was being held in someone’s arms.  
  
“Lily, take Harriet and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off!”  
  
Harriet heard feet moving in opposite directions. There was the tell-tale crash of a door bursting open followed by a cackle of high-pitched, maniacal laughter.  
  
“Harriet!”  
  
Harriet groaned. She felt as though she had an extreme case of the flu now as she lay on the floor and slowly became aware of her surroundings.  
  
“I heard my dad that time…” Harriet said as she sat up. Her whole body was shaking. “That’s the only time I’ve ever heard his voice… he… he tried to take on Voldemort himself… he tried to give my mum time to run for it…”  
  
Harriet felt her shoulders shake and she barely held back a sob.  
  
“You… you heard James…?” Professor Lupin asked. His voice sounded different, as though he were shaken too.  
  
“Y-yeah,” Harriet stammered. Then she remembered, the fact that her father, Professor Lupin, Mr Dusk, and Sirius Black had all been friends at Hogwarts. “Sorry… I… I know you two were friends…”  
  
Professor Lupin blinked. “How… how did you know?”  
  
Harriet sniffed. “I…” she faltered. She couldn’t admit to Professor Lupin what she had overheard in the Leaky Cauldron. She fished around and something else she had once heard came to her mind. During her trip to Diagon Alley before her second year Mr O’Brien had talked about her father’s “gang,” and he’d named Dusk and Lupin.  
  
“I… overheard Kieran’s parents one time, talking about my dad’s old friends… I didn’t really put it together until now… the names I mean… you and Mr Dusk from the shop in town.”  
  
Professor Lupin actually laughed. Harriet looked up at him in bemusement.  
  
“You know, you remind me so much of James… and Lily… and Daniel too. Maybe even especially Daniel,” Professor Lupin mused. “You notice things, Harriet. Good, strong instincts. You would make a good Auror, like Daniel was.”  
  
Harriet flushed. “Really?” she blinked and asked. “Mr Dusk was an Auror?”  
  
“Yes, once upon a time. He quit shortly after… well… he had disagreements. Anyway, I think that will do for today, Harriet.”  
  
“No,” Harriet said getting to her feet again. “Please just one more go. I’m not thinking of happy enough things is all.”  
  
Harriet paced the room, thinking hard of the happiest memory she could think of, one she could turn into a truly powerful patronus. Then it clicked, the moment she learned she would be leaving the Dursleys to come to Hogwarts. That had to qualify as a happy memory, didn’t it?  
  
“Okay, I’ve got it now,” Harriet said turning to face the trunk once more.  
  
Professor Lupin looked as though he was battling with himself as he prepared to pull the packing case open once more.  
  
“Okay, go!” Professor Lupin said and yanked the lid open. The boggart-dementor rose out once more. The lights dimmed again and Harriet fixed her mind hard on Hogwarts, her home.  
  
“ _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!” Harriet cried as loud as she could. “ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ”  
  
Harriet expected the white fog to come, but it didn’t. Harriet heard the screaming, but this time it sounded different. It sounded distant this time, as if she was hearing it over a poorly tuned radio or a bad phone connection, coming in and out of tune.  
  
And then it happened. Her wand gave a jolt and from it burst a great, silver cloud. It didn't take a form, but it floated between her and the dementor and the dementor held back. Harriet didn’t know what an earthquake felt like, but she had a good idea now as her knees trembled and threatened to buckle in the effort of keeping the charm going. But she did not fall.  
  
“ _Riddikulus_!” she heard Professor Lupin cry out as he leapt into the silver-fog and with a loud crack the dementor vanished, as did the silver-fog. Harriet managed to stagger over and sink into a chair. She felt as though she had run for miles. Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Professor Lupin forcing the boggart, which had returned to a great, silvery orb, back into the packing case.  
  
“That was excellent, Harriet! Excellent!” Professor Lupin declared triumphantly. “That was a wonderful start! No one in my class managed that strong a non-corporeal patronus their first lesson!”  
  
“One more try,” Harriet said trying to stand again.  
  
“No,” Professor Lupin said with an air of finality. “You’ve had more than enough for one night. Here,” Professor Lupin said and handed her a large Honeyduke’s chocolate bar. “Eat the whole thing or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Possibly literally. Now, same time next week?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Harriet said taking a bite from the chocolate bar. She watched Professor Lupin putting out the candles and lamps that had relit after the boggart-dementor had been put away. A thought then occurred to Harriet, something she had seen on Scott’s board after the last Hogsmeade trip.  
  
“Professor Lupin?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Yes, Harriet?”  
  
“I… I know this is a touchy subject but, I… I know if you were friends with my dad then you were friends with…” Harriet trailed off, not knowing how to finish.  
  
Professor Lupin froze. His back was to her and she couldn’t see his face. She was sure that he knew what she was going to ask. “Yes… I knew Sirius Black… or… I thought I knew him…” Professor Lupin said. “It’s getting late, Harriet…”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Harriet said quickly. “I just know he’s after me and…”  
  
“You want to know where he went wrong?” Professor Lupin asked sagely. “Why he became what he became?”  
  
“Yes, sir…”  
  
“I honestly wish I could tell you, Harriet,” Professor Lupin said in a quiet voice.  
  
Harriet bit her lip and decided not to pursue the subject, so she changed it. “Also… I was glad to hear you spent the holidays with Mr Dusk. I know what it’s like to not have many friends.”  
  
Professor Lupin gave a snort that might have been a laugh. “Ah Hogwarts, nothing is ever secret within your walls, is it?” he asked himself. “But it is late, Harriet, you need rest after tonight.”  
  
He turned and gave Harriet a soft, genuine smile that let her knew he wasn’t truly upset. Harriet smiled back. “Thank you for the lessons and the chocolate, Professor.”  
  
“You’re welcome, Harriet. Goodnight.  
  
“Goodnight, sir.”


	18. Flying the Firebolt

“You may never be able to change who someone is, but it’s surprising how easy it is to give them a nudge in the right direction.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
The following weeks passed with little incident. The Ravenclaw – Slytherin Quidditch match ended with a narrow Slytherin victory. On principle, Harriet was inclined to count every Slytherin victory as a defeat; Wood reassured the team that this was good news.  
  
“Well, I liked what we saw out there,” he told them during their postgame conference.  
  
“The Ravenclaw seekers are top notch. The only reason they lost is that little Malfoy git has the faster broom. But that’s still a good thing for us. The points spread isn’t that far off anymore. All we need to do is beat Ravenclaw in the next match and we’ll take second place.”  
  
His eyebrows knit together, lips puckering briefly in what Harriet assumed to be guilt, guilt that he hadn’t yet managed to talk Professor McGonagall into letting her have the Firebolt back. Much to everyone’s chagrin, Wood then increased the amount of practices to five a week. This meant that Harriet would only have one night a week to do her homework.  
  
However, Harriet didn’t feel nearly as put upon as Hermione looked. It seemed as though Hermione’s heavy work-load was finally getting to her. She would spend every night camped out in a corner of the common room, all of her books and notes spread out over at least two tables. Scott would usually come to help Hermione with her work, but it was clear that Hermione’s pride wouldn’t permit her to accept too much help. So instead the two usually sat in silence.  
  
Ronnie had another concern. “How’s she doing it?” Ronnie asked one evening.  
  
 Harriet and Ronnie were doing their homework by the fireplace with Kieran and Marcus, as Hermione was in one of her less pleasant moods and they were keeping their distance.  
  
“What?” Marcus asked, distracted.  
  
“Getting to all her classes,” Ronnie continued. “I overheard her talking to the Arithmancy professor this morning about yesterday’s lesson, but Hermione can’t have been there because she was in Care of Magical creatures with us.”  
  
“That’s true,” Kieran muttered rubbing his chin in thought.  
  
“And I talked to Ernie Macmillan in Herbology, and he said she’s never missed a Muggle-Studies lesson either, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she’s never missed one of those classes, either.”  
  
Harriet didn’t have time to contemplate Hermione’s impossible time table. She had her own essay for Professor Snape to work on. However, she was distracted mere seconds later by Oliver Wood.  
  
“Hey Harriet, bad news.”  
  
“What?” Harriet asked, feeling her chest tighten. Wood hadn’t decided to force her off the team because of the dementors after all, had he?  
  
“I finally had the chance to talk to Professor McGonagall about the _Firebolt_. She got a bit… well… _shirty_ with me… told me how I’ve got my priorities all wrong, that I care more about winning the cup than your safety. I mean, maybe I shouldn’t have said I didn’t care if it threw you off as long as you caught the Snitch on it first, but—”  
  
“No, you shouldn’t have.”  
  
Harriet looked around. It was Kieran who had spoken. He had sounded so unlike himself that Harriet hadn’t recognized his voice. His hand was clenched so tight his quill broke.  
  
Wood took a step back but still continued, “Well, McGonagall let me have it anyway, and long-story short, I think it’s time you ordered another broomstick to be safe. She said they were going to be keeping it as long as necessary. There’s an order form in the back of _Which Broomstick_ , you could get a _Nimbus 2001_ like the Slytherins have.”  
  
“I’m not getting anything the Slytherins think are good,” Harriet grumbled.  
  
“Oi now, not the broomstick’s fault,” Wood said seriously. “Not like they’re advertised as ‘perfect for cheating gits’ or something.”  
  
Harriet and her friends all laughed. In spite of Wood’s insistence that Harriet buy another broomstick, Harriet just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she would corner Professor McGonagall after every Transfiguration lesson to ask how the inspection was progressing. Eventually, Professor McGonagall got short with Harriet she finally decided to give it a rest.  
  
To make matters worse, Harriet wasn’t doing nearly as well in her Patronus lessons as she’d hoped. Three sessions in and she still couldn’t produce a proper patronus, despite Professor Lupin’s assurances that she was still doing quite well. Harriet could not help but feel as though she was stagnant. What if the dementors showed up at the match with Ravenclaw and she couldn’t fight them off?  
  
Harriet had a suspicion there was more to her lack of progress than inability. Something that was not lost on Harriet was the fact that this was the only time she had ever heard her parents’ voices that she could remember. She couldn’t help but wonder if part of her problem was that she subconsciously wanted to hear their voices.  
  
But that was silly, Harriet kept telling herself in the lead-up to her fourth session. Sure, she was hearing her parents’ voices again, but why would she want to hear those particular moments? Sure if they were moments of great happiness she would want to remember and hear them. But then, if she could, she supposed she wouldn’t have such troubles with the dementors in the first place.  
  
Finally, the night of their fourth lesson arrived. Harriet looked for Ronnie to tell her that she was off but to her surprise she couldn’t find Ronnie anywhere, nor Kieran or Marcus. Hermione was still in her corner studying, alone this time, and given the manic expression on her face Harriet decided against disturbing her.  
  
Harriet set off for the lesson but was surprised when she neared to hear the sound of voices coming from the old History of Magic classroom. She pushed the door open and peered inside. There were Kieran, Scott, Marcus, Ronnie and Dora sitting on desks around the room, talking and laughing. And Jackson and Jeremy Owen from Hufflepuff.  
  
“Hey you,” Dora said smiling as Harriet entered.  
  
“What are you lot doing here?” Harriet asked.  
  
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “We’re here to take patronus lessons with you, dork,” she said smiling.  
  
Harriet blinked and blushed.  
  
Kieran smiled. “Well, we knew you were having a hard go of it, so, we just wanted to show you that you didn’t have to do it alone.”  
  
“And we thought you’d feel better knowing that there were a few of us in the stands, along with the staff, who could do patronuses to drive off Dementors,” Marcus said.  
  
Harriet felt her lips curling involuntarily into a sheepish smile and her cheeks grow hotter. She turned to Jackson and Jeremy.  
  
“But what about you two?” she asked, though immediately thought that question might have been rude?  
  
Jeremy shrugged. “Professor Lupin thought it might help our confidence in Defence Against the Dark Arts to do a bit more advanced work,” he explained. Jackson nodded in agreement.  
  
Just then, Professor Lupin entered with the trunk slung over his shoulder. “Ah, we’re all here, excellent,” he said as he put the case down on the desk.  
  
“I don’t know how properly this will work, as we may confuse the boggart, make it harder for it to change into a Dementor. But, we can do our best. We will probably have to have Harriet right up front for the boggart to focus on her instead.”  
  
Harriet nodded. While in general being the focus of a dementor’s attention gave her pause if not outright fear, the thought of all her friends arrayed around her gave her confidence she had never felt before. Even the prospect of failing to produce a patronus in front of them did not seem to dampen her new-found enthusiasm.  
  
Harriet took a seat on a desk and watched as Professor Lupin walked the rest through the basics of conjuring patronuses. Marcus and Scott, who had affinities for Charms, were the quickest to produce the tell-tale silvery vapour.  
  
The next were Kieran and Dora, then Jackson and Ronnie, and finally Jeremy. Harriet grimaced noting the look of disappointment on Jeremy’s face.  
  
Harriet hopped off the desk and made her way to the trunk. She drew her wand and prepared herself. She tried thinking of leaving Privet Drive for Hogwarts, her usual happy thought, but other thoughts kept intruding. She wasn’t alone this time. Her friends cared enough to put aside their own studies to help her.  
  
Professor Lupin counted down and whipped the trunk open. As Professor Lupin had hoped, when the boggart rose out from it, it had taken the form of a dementor. Harriet felt the cold, saw the lights flicker and die, heard the static in her ears that signified she was about to hear the sounds of Voldemort attacking her parents.  
  
Harriet gritted her teeth, pointed her wand at the Dementor, and again, instead of thinking of her usual happy thought, the faces of her friends floated up into her mind.  
  
“ _Expecto Patronum_!” Harriet cried.  
  
Harriet wasn’t quite sure what happened at first. There was a brilliant flash of silver-white light, completely blinding her. Then the next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor, feeling dazzled and dazed, blinking spots out of her eyes.  
  
“Harriet?” Professor Lupin asked.  
  
Harriet blinked a few times and looked around as she regained her senses. Professor Lupin was kneeling in front of her, looking both worried and yet very pleased. Harriet’s friends were all arrayed behind Professor Lupin, though they all looked much more worried than anything else.  
  
“What happened?” Harriet asked trying to get to her feet.  
  
“Your best effort yet by far,” Professor Lupin said beaming as he helped her up. “The closest to a corporeal patronus you’ve done so far. I think I saw a leg and a head that time.”  
  
Harriet blinked. “Then why did I black out again?”  
  
Professor Lupin chuckled. “I think you did so well you surprised yourself,” he explained moving back to the trunk. “You didn’t keep your focus going so it faltered before truly driving off the boggart-dementor.”  
  
Harriet digested the information. Her friends gathered around her solicitously, checking she was okay.  
  
“I’m fine,” she reassured them, and for once, she really meant it. She was on to something now, she was sure of it. She just had to keep it going.  
  
Professor Lupin now looked grim. “However, Harriet, given how advanced you are compared to your classmates, I have an awkward question.”  
  
Harriet grimaced. She was sure she knew what Professor Lupin was going to ask. He wanted her to face the dementor without conjuring the Patronus for everyone else to get practice.  
  
“I want you to hold back this time, Harriet,” Professor Lupin said. “To give everyone else a chance at conjuring a patronus under the effects of the dementor. Only retaliate when you feel you can’t take any more, alright?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Harriet said.  
  
Professor Lupin sighed. Harriet gave all her friends reassuring looks before giving Professor Lupin the go-ahead to reopen the trunk.  
  
An hour later, Harriet felt as though she’d run a marathon. However, she had managed to fight off the effects of the dementor every time and not pass out. She had still been forced to step in and conjure her own patronus every time, but even Jeremy seemed to be getting the hang of it by the end of the class.  
  
Harriet and her friends were all sitting around the room, all looking as weary as Harriet felt. Professor Lupin had procured some bottles of butterbeer for them this time as well as Honeydukes chocolate. The butterbeer was just as effective as the chocolate at fighting off the effects of the dementor.  
  
Harriet was staring at the trunk, a thought coming to her head that she hadn’t had before. “Professor Lupin?” she asked. “I… I’ve seen what their hands look like but, what does a Dementor’s face look like?”  
  
Professor Lupin lowered his own butterbeer bottle looking thoughtful. “An interesting question, Harriet. Unfortunately, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell anyone.”  
  
“How do you mean, sir?” Scott asked.  
  
Professor Lupin grimaced. “Well, Dementors only lower their hoods to use their last, and worst, weapon, the Dementor’s Kiss.”  
  
Dora shivered but everyone else looked morbidly interested.  
  
“What’s the Dementor’s Kiss?” Marcus asked.  
  
“It’s what Dementors do to those they wish to utterly destroy. There’s no chance of recovery once it’s performed. The dementors must have a mouth of some form under their hoods, and they clamp it down over the mouth of their victim, and suck out their soul.”  
  
“You mean they kill them?” Jackson asked, aghast.  
  
“No…”  
  
Everyone turned. It was Dora who’d spoken that time. She shivered again staring at the floor vacantly. She noticed everyone was looking at her and flushed.  
  
 Professor Lupin cut in to spare Dora the unwanted attention. “No, they don’t kill their victims. But perhaps it would be better if they did.”  
  
“What’s worse than death?” Ronnie asked. Even if she was not Dora’s biggest fan of late, after the fiasco with the _Firebolt_ , Ronnie was still very concerned.  
  
“You can exist without your soul,” Professor Lupin said. “What the dementors take is more or less everything that makes you ‘you.’ All of your personality, your memories, your sense of self. All that’s left is your body as an empty shell, heart beating, lungs working, but that is all. There’s no chance of recovery. You lie in bed as a vegetable until your body finally gives out. Which is sooner rather than later because the body eventually stops eating.”  
  
Professor Lupin’s lips tightened again. “It’s… it’s the fate that awaits Sirius Black should he be caught again. It was in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning. The Ministry has given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him. The same goes for Solomon Kinney. The Ministry just received permission from the standing American government to perform it on Kinney should they find him as well.”  
  
“They deserve it.”  
  
Harriet didn’t know what made her say it. The words just burst forth from her of their own volition as anger at both of the mass-murderers welled up inside her.  
  
“You really think so, Harriet?” Professor Lupin asked. “You think anyone deserves such a fate?”  
  
“Yes,” Harriet said bitterly. “For some things…”  
  
All of Harriet’s friends were giving her uncomfortable looks. Harriet was worried the attention would make Professor Lupin suspicious and wished they’d look away.  
  
They finished their butterbeers and bid Professor Lupin goodnight before heading back to their common rooms. Harriet was so distracted she barely noticed when Scott, Dora and Jeremy broke off from the group to make their way to their own common rooms. She also didn’t notice Professor McGonagall stepping around a corner walking towards them and walked right into her.  
  
“Do watch where you’re going, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said sternly.  
  
“S-sorry, Professor,” Harriet spluttered.  
  
“I’ve just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room,” Professor McGonagall said waving aside Harriet’s apology. “Well, here it is, we’ve done absolutely everything we could think of and there doesn’t seem to be the slightest thing wrong with it. You have a very good friend somewhere, Potter.”  
  
Harriet’s jaw fell open. Professor McGonagall was holding out her _Firebolt_ , and it looked just as magnificent as it had the moment she unwrapped it.  
  
“I… I can have it back… you mean it?” Harriet asked. “Seriously?!”  
  
“Seriously,” Professor McGonagall replied, the corners of her mouth twitching. “I daresay you’ll need some practice before Saturday’s match, won’t you? And _do_ try and win this one, Potter, or we’ll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape kindly reminded me just this afternoon.”  
  
Harriet took the _Firebolt_ , thanking Professor McGonagall profusely before she and Ronnie tore off to the common room, so excited they left Kieran, Marcus, and Jackson far behind.  
  
They reached the portrait hole and found Neville pleading with Sir Cadogan. “But I wrote them down,” Neville was moaning, looking on the verge of tears. “I must have dropped them somewhere.”  
  
“A likely story!” Sir Cadogan declared, brandishing his sword. He spotted Harriet and Ronnie approaching. “Stay back, fair maidens! I’ve encountered a brigand attempting to gain access to the chambers within. Who knows what he may be capable of?!”  
  
“Oh shut up,” Ronne snarled.  
  
“I lost the passwords,” Neville confessed sheepishly. “I made him tell me what words he was going to use this week but I don’t know what I’ve done with them.”  
  
“Oddsbodikins,” Harriet said and Sir Cadogan grudgingly opened.  
  
The moment Harriet stepped inside, she was mobbed by excited Gryffindors who all wanted to get a look at her _Firebolt_.  
  
“Fantastic!” Oliver Wood cried.  
  
Fred and George both stooped to lift Harriet up on their shoulders so all could see her and the _Firebolt_.  
  
“Ravenclaw’ll have no chance this time,” someone said.  
  
“Yeah, they’re all on _Cleansweep 7s_!”  
  
“Not Chang, she’s on a _Comet 260_.”  
  
“Still has nothing on a _Firebolt_!”  
  
Fred and George lowered Harriet back to the floor and Harriet managed to get a look at Hermione who was still in her usual corner, working away.  
  
Harriet let the crowd, supervised by the ever vigilant Wood, inspect the _Firebolt_ while she made her way over to Hermione.  
  
“Hey,” she said gesturing to the parchment covered chair next to Hermione, “can I sit?”  
  
“Hi,” Hermione said back. “Of course,” she replied and cleared the chair.  
  
Harriet looked over the table in disbelief. There were two long essays, one for Arithmancy and another for Muggle-Studies entitled “Explain why Muggles Need Electricity.” At the moment, Hermione was poring over her rune translations.  
  
“Oh Hermione, how are you getting through all this?” Harriet asked sympathetically.  
  
“Oh, just, working hard,” Hermione said casually.  
  
“Hey Harriet,” Ronnie said. “I’m gonna run up to the boys’ room to give Scabbers his rat tonic and I’ll be right back.”  
  
“Yeah okay,” Harriet said before she turned back to Hermione and grimaced. “Come on, Hermione, you almost look worse than Lupin does. Why don’t you just drop a couple of these subjects, like Muggle Studies?”  
  
“I couldn’t do that!” Hermione gasped.  
  
“Why not?” Harriet asked.  
  
“I… well…” Hermione flushed. “Because Muggle Studies is some of the closest I get to having fun.”  
  
Harriet felt her heart sink and hugged Hermione tight around the shoulders. “Well think about it,” Harriet said. “If you’re this busy this year you won’t be able to find time for _lacrosse_ next fall,” she said giving Hermione a shrewd smile.  
  
Hermione flushed but actually smiled. “You’re… you’re right…I—”  
  
Hermione’s thought was cuts off by an ear-piercing scream. The whole common room went silent, staring at the entrance. Harriet heard the sound of pounding feet and Ronnie hurtled into the room, dragging a bed sheet behind her. Ronnie’s eyes found Hermione, and pure rage was burning in them.  
  
“LOOK!” Ronnie cried holding out the bed sheets as she stormed over, sticking them in Hermione’s face. “LOOK!”  
  
“Ronnie, what are you—?”  
  
“SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!”  
  
Hermione was wide eyed. Harriet shared her shock and bewilderment, but looked down at the sheet Ronnie was holding. Harriet’s heart sank. There was a spot on the sheet that was clearly blood.  
  
“Blood!” Ronnie shouted. “And there was this!”  
  
“Ronnie, what’s going on, what are you doing with my bedsheet?” Marcus asked.  
  
Ronnie rounded on him too. “You said you’d keep the door locked!” she shouted, “this is your fault too!”  
  
Marcus looked as though Ronnie had punched him. Ronnie glared around at everyone angrily before she slammed her hand down on the table, leaving behind a small piece of tissue.  
  
Inside was a single, disembodied toe. “I found this on the floor…” she said before storming up the girls’ staircase.  
  
Marcus looked after her, his face stricken. Harriet wondered if Marcus would have gone after Ronnie, and realized he wouldn’t have got very far. Nothing broke the silence. Not even the sound of first years playing Exploding Snap.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet was sure this was the end of Ronnie and Hermione’s friendship. Ronnie was so angry with Hermione she didn’t see how Hermione could ever make it up to her. Hermione was so ashamed of what had happened she awoke with Basheera the next morning to make sure that she got up before Ronnie did, and when Harriet went down to the common room she saw that Hermione had removed all of her homework from its usual spot in the corner. Harriet supposed that Hermione had moved it all to the library instead.  
  
At breakfast, Harriet saw Hermione sitting with Scott at the Ravenclaw table. Ronnie made no comment, simply sat and ate in silence. The rest of the day did not improve. Ronnie and Hermione made pointed efforts to sit on the opposite side of every class. Marcus, sharing Hermione’s shame, chose to sit by Hermione as well, but all this did was make Ronnie even angrier with him.  
  
Finally, Harriet took matters into her own hands and invited Ronnie to that night’s Quidditch practice, the final practice before the match against Ravenclaw. She promised to give Ronnie a chance to fly on the _Firebolt_ too. Even though she was not the biggest Quidditch fan, the opportunity to fly the most expensive and best made broomstick in the world was too much for Ronnie to pass up.  
  
When they arrived, Madam Hooch swooped down upon them and at once began showering praise upon the _Firebolt_. Harriet found this amusing as Madam Hooch had spent almost a month and a half examining the broomstick for jinxes.  
  
“Perfect balance, simply perfect,” she exclaimed. “Now _Nimbuses_ are a wonderful design but they do tend to develop a drag after a few years; slight list to the tail end. Rather reminds me of the old _Silver Arrow_ , wonderful old broom that was. Learned to fly one you know—”  
  
“Uh, Madam Hooch,” Wood interjected awkwardly. “Don’t mind if Harriet has the _Firebolt_ back do you? We need to get to practice.”  
  
“Oh, right you are, right you are! Here you go, Potter.”  
  
Madam Hooch handed back the _Firebolt_ and headed off to the stands with Ronnie in tow.  
  
 For once, Wood didn’t have a long speech or a detailed training plan. It seemed his only concern was seeing the _Firebolt_ in action. So not wasting any time, Harriet swung her leg over the _Firebolt_ and kicked off.  
  
It was the most exhilarating feeling of her life. It was better than her first flight. It was better than her _Nimbus_. Harriet felt as though she herself was flying rather than riding a broomstick. It seemed to respond to her thoughts rather than her changing grips.  
  
The speed was remarkable. The world became a blur as she shot across the pitch, and yet never lost control as she pulled a high speed turn that she knew her _Nimbus_ never could have managed. Wood was beaming down below as he readied to release the balls.  
  
“Harriet, I’m letting the Snitch out now!” he called. He opened the box and the two Bludgers shot into the air, as did the tiny tell-tale glitter of the Golden Snitch.  
  
Harriet tore after it. She shot past the Bludgers which turned and attempted to give chase, but Harriet was moving so fast they might as well have been standing still. After ten-seconds, Harriet skidded to a halt, the wriggling Golden Snitch tight in her hand.  
  
Wood was beside himself. Harriet let the Snitch go once more and this time gave it a whole minute’s head start before giving chase once more. Yet again, the Snitch had no chance. Harriet spotted it hovering by Katie Bell’s knee and looped clear over her with ease, catching it neatly.  
  
Harriet never remembered a better practice. By the end, Wood didn’t have a single criticism. George discretely informed Harriet that this was the first time that had happened since Wood took over as captain.  
  
The team headed back to the changing rooms but Harriet stayed out to give Ronnie her chance on the _Firebolt_. Ronnie hopped back onto the pitch, running over excitedly. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in the stands.  
  
Harriet smiled watching Ronnie swoop and dive through the air, whooping happily. Harriet had to admit that even if Ronnie rarely flew broomsticks, her potential was there. Harriet wondered if it’d be possible to talk Fred and George into helping Ronnie practice flying. Ronnie was already a very good goal-keeper on her feet, Harriet didn’t think it’d take much to make her good at it on a broomstick.  
  
It was dark by the time Madam Hooch awoke. She told them both off for having not woken her earlier and sent them both back to the school. As they walked back, talking excitedly about the _Firebolt’s_ superb handling and speed, something on the edge of Forbidden Forest caught Harriet’s eye.  
  
“What is it?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“I thought I saw some eyes,” Harriet said, pointing at the gap in the trees.  
  
Harriet and Ronnie both drew their wands and ignited the tips, shining the lights on the spot. Just below where Harriet saw the eyes was the fluffy, ginger form of Crookshanks staring back at them.  
  
“You little!” Ronnie shouted and took a step towards the cat.  
  
In the blink of an eye, Crookshanks vanished from sight. Ronnie scowled before pocketing her wand again. “Still letting that monster run around on its own… it probably just chased Scabbers down with a bird or two…” Ronnie grumbled.  
  
Harriet was still inspecting the spot. The eyes she’d seen hadn’t been low enough to have been Crookshanks. She supposed Crookshanks could have been on one of the trees, but none were close enough for that to be realistic either. Harriet was forced to conclude that it had been her eyes playing tricks on her.  
  
The common room was almost empty when they arrived. Kieran and Marcus had waited up for them but Ronnie turned her nose up. Clearly Ronnie had not yet forgiven them for their lapse in vigilance guarding Scabbers.  
  
Harriet sighed sitting with the boys.  
  
“How was practice?” Kieran asked.  
  
“Great,” Harriet said honestly. “The _Firebolt’s_ fantastic. Wood didn’t have anything to criticize by the end of practice.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s what Gred said,” Marcus said.  
  
“ _Gred_?” Harriet laughed.  
  
Marcus laughed too. “It was either that or Forge. Never can tell with those two.”  
  
Harriet smiled and stretched looking around the empty common room. It was then she noticed that the room wasn’t as empty as she thought. Over in the corner, Hermione once lived in, was Emma. Unlike Hermione, who was always working feverishly, Emma was sound asleep. Her head rested on the table, which was covered in pieces of parchment and coloured pencils.  
  
“Think someone needs to be put to bed,” Harriet chuckled.  
  
Marcus jumped in surprise. “Blimey, didn’t even know she was over there.”  
  
“Me either,” Kieran agreed. “She’s always so quiet.”  
  
Harriet got up and walked over to Emma. On the one hand, she looked so peaceful; Harriet didn’t want to disturb her; on the other sleeping like that couldn’t be good for her. Harriet was about to put a hand on Emma’s shoulder when she paused.  
  
On the top parchment was a realistic self-portrait, hugging a large, shaggy black dog. Harriet had to marvel at the young girl’s attention to detail. She certainly wasn’t that good at Emma’s age. A caption over the dog read “Snuffles.” At the bottom of the picture Emma had written:  
  


_Best Friends!_

  
Harriet couldn’t help but smile. She wondered if Snuffles was the Flamel family dog. She’d have to ask Dora tomorrow at breakfast. Harriet then felt a sense of sadness creep in as she looked down at Emma. If Snuffles was the family dog and her best friend, she had to be lonely. And then how sad it was that she was so shy that her best friend was in fact a dog. Harriet sighed shaking Emma awake, and leading her to bed.  
  


### * * * *

  
Harriet slept poorly that night. She usually did before Quidditch matches, the mixture of anticipation and worry always getting to her. However, by the time she went down to breakfast there was nothing in the world she wanted to do more than play.  
  
Harriet found the trip down to the Great Hall a little more awkward than usual. On Wood’s orders, Harriet now had two ‘bodyguards,’ fourth year boys by the names of Cormac McLaggen and Chris Jerome. Harriet remembered them from the previous year when they offered similar services to Marcus. Now they had been ordered to guard not just Harriet but the _Firebolt_ until the match. Harriet found she didn’t mind Chris quite as much as Cormac, but both were quite full of themselves.  
  
Every head in the Great Hall turned as Harriet entered the Great Hall, necks craning trying to get a look at the _Firebolt_. Harriet didn’t even bother to suppress her smirk as she caught sight of the dumbstruck faces of the Slytherin team.  
  
“Did you see the look on Malfoy’s face?” Ronnie smirked as they arrived at the table.  
  
“Put it here, Harriet,” Wood said clearing a spot on the table for the _Firebolt_.  
  
Harriet set the _Firebolt_ down. Wood glowed and turned the broomstick so the gold-inlay shone brightly in the morning sun. The broom was irresistible and many students from both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw came over to see it.  
  
“Wow,” Cedric Diggory said breathlessly. “Never thought I’d see one up close! I gotta fly against one next year,” he said admiring the broomstick. “I suppose it’s what I get for not paying more attention to the really important things, eh?”  
  
Harriet flushed and felt the usual butterflies rise in her stomach as Cedric smiled at her. _He thinks I’m really important?_ Harriet thought to herself as Cedric headed back to the Hufflepuff table.  
  
Harriet couldn’t help but notice that the rest of Cedric’s team did not look very happy with his friendly behaviour towards Harriet. When she looked back at her teammates, she realized they had the same expression for her.  
  
Fortunately, Harriet was spared further uncomfortable attention by Percy and his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater. Penelope was looking at the broomstick with a reverence. Harriet was surprised when Penelope asked to hold it.  
  
“Now, now Penny, no sabotage,” Percy said in a hearty tone as Harriet handed Penelope the _Firebolt._ “Penny and I’ve got a bet on, ten galleons on the outcome of the match!”  
  
The group of Quidditch players went quiet. “You’re making an _actual_ bet, with money and everything, with your girlfriend?” asked Erica Quoy, who was sitting with Angelina, Katie and Alicia.  
  
Percy went scarlet and spluttered awkwardly.  
  
“Oh it’s just a little friendly competition,” Penelope said before thanking Harriet and handing her back the _Firebolt_. She headed back to the Ravenclaw table and Percy followed.  
  
“Well isn’t this typical?” said an all too familiar, and entirely unwelcome voice behind Harriet.  
  
“Special Miss Potter gets another special treat like always.”  
  
It was Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró, along with Wendy Aarons.  
  
“Well, you see, it’s what happens when you’re a decent person,” Harriet retorted. “People tend to be nice to you.”  
  
Pansy and Pixie scowled. Angelina reached across the table to give Harriet a high-five. Wendy looked back and forth between Pansy and Pixie, clearly hoping her heroes would come up with something clever to retaliate.  
  
“Well it won’t matter much, unless it has a parachute or something built in, in case the Dementors show up,” Pixie taunted.  
  
“Yeah, or a swooning bed to catch you,” Pansy added.  
  
“Uh-huh, and you two do what for your team exactly?” Angelina asked shrewdly. “Sit in the stands and toss your hair and pretend to be pretty? Oh yeah, you two’re _legends_ you are!”  
  
Erica’s eyes glittered maliciously. “Besides, weren’t you two the first ones back to the castle after the dementors showed up on the pitch?”  
  
“Well, her name is _Pansy_ ,” Alicia taunted.  
  
Pansy and Pixie glared and stalked off, with Wendy following, a dispirited look on her face.  
  
“You guys didn’t have to jump in like that,” Harriet said awkwardly. “I can deal with them.”  
  
“Yeah, we know,” Angelina said grinning. “But we can’t let you have _all_ the fun.”  
  
Harriet beamed. Just then, Wood rose. “Right, let’s get down to the changing rooms.”  
  
The team rose with him and Harriet hoisted the _Firebolt_ over her shoulder. They passed the Slytherin table on the way out.  
  
As the team passed the Slytherins, the unwelcome voice of Draco Malfoy broke the silence. "Oi, Potter!"  
  
Harriet paused, and readied one of the insults she'd been working on. She noticed that Draco’s Quidditch team were all grinning at her like wolves, waiting for Draco’s taunt. Others around the table gave him disapproving scowls.  
  
Kenley Tyler, who had been petrified the previous year for helping Harriet and her friend investigate Slytherin’s Heir, was glowering at Draco.  
  
He opened his mouth, closed it, looked at the _Firebolt_ and gave a feeble attempt at a smile that came out as more of a grimace. "Nice broom."  
  
Harriet stared at him, as did the rest of the Slytherin team. Marcus Flint had frozen with his fork halfway to his gaping mouth, the food having fallen back onto the plate. Draco continued to look away from Harriet.  
  
As she watched, he glanced down the table at Kenley Tyler and Danielle Waterman. Harriet was sure that he was looking at Kenley. And, even though fleeting, the smile on Kenley’s face could only be described as smug.  
  
Harriet shook her head and hurried off to catch up with the team. She changed quickly and ran out to the pitch. The sky was a clear blue and not a cloud to be seen. It was going to be a much better match than last time. It was still chilly, but Harriet had the scarf Dora had given her for Christmas and the flying goggles she’d received from Hermione.  
  
Underneath her uniform, hidden by the robes, were the elbow, knee, and shin guards Kieran had given her. She had told everyone she wore the hoodie Kieran had given her too because it was cold. In reality, she had stuck her wand in the pouch for easy access should the dementors make another appearance.  
  
The stands were filling up. Harriet looked around, wondering if she’d be able to spot Professor Lupin. The Ravenclaws joined them; Madam Hooch striding out towards them carrying the crate. Harriet spotted Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, among their ranks. She looked to be about Harriet’s height, maybe half-an-inch shorter. Cho smiled back at Harriet but there was a definite mischievous glint in her eye. Harriet returned it, a sense of competitive spirit rising up inside her. _Feeling confident, eh?_ Harriet thought as she smiled back. _Let’s see how your Comet fares against my Firebolt._  
  
Cho wasn’t the only one Harriet noticed. She also noticed that the Ravenclaws had a new pair of beaters. Harriet was amused to note that, as with Fred and George, they were a pair of twins. They looked quite as good natured as Fred and George as they smiled back at the Gryffindors. Harriet remembered they were a year younger than her, but she was having trouble remembering their names.  
  
“Wood, Davies, shake hands,” Madam Hooch said.  
  
Harriet watched Wood and Roger Davies shake hands. She couldn’t help noting that Wood held himself a bit straighter, his chin lifted a bit higher.  
  
“Mount your brooms,” Madam Hooch continued. “On my whistle… three… two… one!”  
  
The whistle shrieked and Harriet kicked off hard. She rocketed skywards, outpacing Cho. Harriet began scanning for the Snitch at once. As she did, she heard the cheerful commentary from Lee Jordan.  
  
“—of course the real story of this match is Harriet Potter’s _Firebolt_. The folks at _Which Broomstick_ say the _Firebolt’s_ going to be the broomstick of choice for the national teams at this year’s world cup and who can blame them—”  
  
“Jordan, would you please restrict your commentary to what’s happening in the match?” Professor McGonagall snapped.  
  
“Right, right, sorry professor. Just some background information. Though I should add that unlike most brooms the _Firebolt_ has a built in auto-brake which I’m sure is the same effect Potter’s having on the hearts of all the young lads out there as she—”  
  
“Jordan!”  
  
“Okay! Okay! Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for Ravenclaw—”  
  
At that moment Harriet streaked past Katie. Her trajectory threw off Roger Davies’ balance, forcing him to break his path toward Katie and the Quaffle.  
  
Harriet scanned for the Snitch, noting as she looked around that Cho was tailing her closely. Cho was using a common Seeker ploy against a faster broom, letting the other Seeker do the work of spotting the Snitch. Well, if she thought she was going to let Harriet do all the work for her, she had another thing coming.  Harriet had barely thought about accelerating when the _Firebolt_ shot forward, leaving Cho far behind.  
  
“Wow, would you look at that _Firebolt_ go!” Lee Jordan’s voice boomed as Harriet rounded the Ravenclaw goal-posts. “It’s a beautiful broom and a beautiful lady to show it off—”  
  
“Jordan! Gryffindor has just scored the first point of the match, would you focus, please!?”  
  
Harriet smirked. There was a tiny glint of gold near one of the barriers lining the pitch. She’d spotted it. Harriet dived. Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Cho dive too but it would be no good. Harriet was too far ahead and her broom was too fast.  
  
Something else caught her eye. A Bludger was rocketing towards her, taking her by surprise. Harriet managed to dive out of the way just in time, missing the Bludger by mere inches. She corrected and looked around but to no avail. The Snitch had vanished again. A loud groan rose from the Gryffindor section, but a wave of cheers came from the Ravenclaws. The beaters may have been young, but whichever one of the twins had hit the Bludger was definitely a good shot.  
  
George Weasley cracked another Bludger towards the beater in retaliation. The Ravenclaw beater almost got clobbered himself but managed to avoid it in time by rolling. He looked a lot less smug after that.  
  
“Well it’s certainly turning into a one-sided match, Gryffindor leads by eighty-points to zero but did you see that manoeuvre there? Any lesser flyer or broomstick would have been dead meat for sure from that Bludger hit by one of the Argall twins. Chang seems to still be trying to keep pace but her _Comet_ is just no match for the _Firebolt’s_ sheer speed and acceleration. One can easily see just how precise the balance on the _Firebolt_ —”  
  
“JORDAN!” Professor McGonagall boomed. “Are you being paid to advertise for _Firebolts_?! Get on with the commentary!”  
  
Soon Ravenclaw had begun to pull back, scoring three unanswered goals. This meant they were now only fifty points ahead over Ravenclaw, meaning if Cho caught the Snitch now, Ravenclaw would win.  
  
Harriet kept her eyes peeled, frantic at that thought. She was not going to let Wood down, not this time. Finally, with a leap of her heart, Harriet spotted the Snitch once more. It was fluttering around the Gryffindor goal posts this time. Harriet shot off at once, her entire mind focused on keeping track of the Snitch.  
  
“Gotcha!”  
  
 _Bump!_ Harriet was jostled sideways as Cho side-swiped her. Harriet glared and was about to retaliate by ramming Cho back when Madam Hooch’s whistled sounded.  
  
“Penalty to Gryffindor!” Madam Hooch called. “Deliberate flying to collide!”  
  
Harriet glared but Cho was grinning as Angelina flew over to take the penalty for Harriet. Angelina scored, but Cho’s ploy had worked all the same. They were down another ten points, but the Snitch had disappeared again.  
  
Harriet scowled and climbed back above the pitch and the other players. She saw Cho climbing up to tail her again. Harriet grinned. _So you want to play dirty?_  
  
Harriet dived. Cho bought it and dived too, thinking Harriet had seen the Snitch again. Harriet let Cho get close before she yanked back hard on the stick and shot almost straight upwards. Cho, unprepared for the move, continued to streak downwards toward the ground. It was as she climbed that Harriet felt her heart leap once more with excitement. She saw the Snitch again. It was hovering high above the Ravenclaw end. There was no way Cho would get there in time now.  
  
Harriet rocketed forward on the _Firebolt_ , Cho struggling to climb, being left far behind. However, Cho shrieked, causing Harriet to look around.  
  
There were three of them. Three tall, black, hooded Dementors looking up at her, their long arms raised. Harriet didn’t think twice. She stuffed her hand into her robes and the pouch of her hoodie. She drew out her wand, pointed it at the Dementors and cried, “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”  
  
Her wand bucked and a great, silver something burst from the tip of her wand and shot towards the dementors. Harriet returned her attention at once to the Snitch which was starting to move off again. Harriet gave chase, reaching out with her wand hand, still holding her wand and—  
  
“YES!” Harriet cried as her fingers closed on the buzzing Snitch.  
  
Madam Hooch’s whistled sounded. Harriet brought the _Firebolt_ to a stop and was immediately set upon by the rest of the team. Everyone embraced in a tight, floating hug high above the pitch, shouting and cheering.  
  
“Brilliant!” Wood cried holding Harriet tight. “That’s my girl!”  
  
They floated back to the ground and what looked like the entire house came flooding onto the pitch to meet them. Ronnie was in the lead and greeted Harriet with a rib-cracking hug. Everyone was cheering and patting her on the back, even Percy was looking elated. Harriet wondered whether he was going to follow through on his bet with his girlfriend or not.  
  
“Now that was a Patronus,” said a familiar, quiet voice in Harriet’s ear.  
  
Harriet looked to see that it was Professor Lupin, who was smiling with unmistakable pride.  
  
“They didn’t affect me at all,” Harriet said. “I didn’t feel a thing.”  
  
“Ah,” Professor Lupin said looking both amused and awkward. “I’m afraid I have some bad news there. Follow me.”  
  
Harriet looked confused but followed. They reached the edge of the crowd and Harriet felt her eyes go wide with surprise and amusement.  
  
“I’m afraid you gave Misses Parkinson, Fanfarró and Aarons quite a fright,” Professor Lupin said.  
  
Harriet gaped. There in a crumpled heap of billowing black robes was Pixie Fanfarró, Pansy Parkinson, and Wendy Aarons. They were all struggling to get out of the robes but not having an easy go of it. By the looks of it, all three had been standing on bar-style stools they must have taken from the Potions classroom. The icing on the cake was the furious look on Professor McGonagall’s face as she loomed over the three girls.  
  
“An unworthy and _childish_ trick!” Professor McGonagall bellowed. “Cowardly! Nothing more than a low trick in an attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! That’s a detention for all of you and fifty points from Slytherin! I’ll be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this!”  
  
Ronnie and Dora had fought their way over too and Ronnie actually fell to the ground laughing while Dora doubled up, hanging on Harriet’s shoulder.  
  
“Come on, Harriet!” George called from the crowd. “Party in the common room!”  
  
Harriet waved back and together with Ronnie and Dora they headed back to the castle.  
  


### * * * *

  
The party lasted the entire day and well into the night. If Harriet didn’t know better, she would have thought they had already won the Quidditch Cup. Fred and George snuck out at one point and didn’t return for two hours, but when they did, their arms were full of sweets like butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and an entire box of Honeydukes sweets.  
  
“Where do you two get this stuff?” Erica asked as the twins began throwing Peppermint Toads out to the crowd.  
  
“Oh you know,” George said. His voice was strange, and Harriet wasn’t sure if he was trying to sound casual, or smug. “Just a magic trick.”  
  
“And a bit of help from Mooney, Wormtail, Paws, Padfoot, and Prongs,” Fred whispered in Harriet’s ear.  
  
Harriet giggled. Fred smiled but then looked curious. “Where’d you get that?” he asked pointing down at Harriet’s wrist. Harriet looked and saw the mystery bracelet she’d been given for Christmas.  
  
“Oh yeah, someone gave it to me for Christmas,” Harriet said holding it up to show. “No idea who. Said it’s a prototype to detect when people are lying, kind of like a Sneakoscope. Except instead of squealing and deafening people, it turns red.”  
  
“Really?” Fred asked, his voice full of interest. “How’s it worked so far?”  
  
“I’m not sure,” Harriet replied. “It’s only turned red a couple times, but I’ve never been sure who could be lying around me when it does.”  
  
“I see…” Fred muttered thoughtfully. “No one around you lying at all when it happened?”  
  
“Not that I’m aware,” Harriet said. “Last time it happened was one of the times Hermione’s cat tried to eat Scabbers.”  
  
Fred rubbed his chin thoughtfully and muttered to himself as he looked at the bracelet. Harriet was going to ask him what he was thinking when she noticed Hermione sitting in the corner by herself, working away at homework once more. Harriet excused herself from Fred and made her way over.  
  
“You alright?” Harriet asked as she sat next to Hermione.  
  
“Yeah,” Hermione said wearily. “I’m fine. Good flying today by the way.”  
  
“Thanks,” Harriet replied. She took in Hermione’s baggy eyes and creased forehead. “Come on, Hermione, have some food, you need to relax.”  
  
“I can’t, Harriet,” Hermione said, her voice starting to rise in pitch. “I’ve still got four hundred twenty two pages to read by Monday!”  
  
“You know, if Scabbers hadn’t just been eaten he probably would have liked these fudge flies,” came Ronnie’s voice, full of accusation. “They were his favourite.”  
  
Hermione broke down into tears at once and slammed her book shut, tucked it under her arm, and ran back up the staircase to the girls’ dormitory before Harriet could say or do anything.  
  
Harriet scowled at Ronnie. This was getting ridiculous. Harriet felt bad about Scabbers too but there was no need to be that rude about it. Harriet made her way over and pulled Ronnie aside, holding Ronnie’s arm rougher than she’d intended.  
  
“Can’t you give her a break,” Harriet asked Ronnie under her breath.  
  
“No,” Ronnie indignantly, tugging her arm out of Harriet’s grasp. “If she just acted like she was sorry—”  
  
“Running away in tears looks pretty _sorry_ to me,” Harriet said, not caring to keep the accusation out of her voice.  
  
Ronnie’s face softened. “I… well… I’ll talk to her tomorrow…”  
  
The party ended at one in the morning, when Professor McGonagall turned up in her tartan dressing gown and night-cap. Harriet and Ronnie headed up the stairs together. Despite her excitement, the exertion of the day was starting to weigh on Harriet and her legs and eyelids felt heavy as she made her way into the room. Hermione looked as though she was already in bed.  
  
Parvati, Lavender, Basheera and AJ were chatting, all sitting cross-legged on Parvati’s bed. Tori was sprawled out on her stomach on her own bed, reading a book while Rachel was crawling under her covers.  
  
Harriet changed into her bedclothes, bid everyone goodnight, and climbed into bed, closing her curtains. She really was exhausted. She slid between the soft sheets, under the warm fluffy duvet and instantly fell asleep.  
  
 _There was a sound of hooves. Harriet spun around trying to see where it had come from. She caught a flash of something silver-white through the trees and started making her way towards it. Whatever it was, it was winding its way through the trees with practiced ease, and Harriet could never get a good look at it. She sped up, trying to catch it but the silver-white creature sped up in turn. Harriet began running and saw that the creature was leading her towards a clearing. She’d be able to catch it soon. Her excitement built when—_  
  
“Harriet! Wake up!”  
  
“Whuh?” Harriet blinked. She was vaguely aware she’d been sleeping and dreaming, but what the dream was Harriet couldn’t remember anymore.  
  
“Something’s happened, come on!” Hermione was saying, shaking Harriet again. Harriet slid out of bed and followed Hermione from the dormitory and down to the common room. Everyone was milling about looking worried.  
  
“What’s going on?” Harriet asked Tori.  
  
“Not sure, Marcus and Percy are fighting about something,” Tori replied.  
  
Harriet and Hermione muscled through the crowd to the boys’ staircase. Marcus was sitting on the bottom-most step, Ronnie next to him with an arm around his shoulder. Marcus looked white as a ghost, and was trembling head to foot.  
  
“Nonsense, Van Der Lakk,” Percy said indignantly. “You probably hallucinated or had a nightmare or something.”  
  
“It wasn’t a nightmare!” Marcus snapped back. “You just don’t want to believe me because you don’t like me and you want a good grade as Head Boy—”  
  
“Now really!” Professor McGonagall’s voice said angrily from the portrait hole.  
  
Everyone parted as she strode into the middle of the room, looking around imperiously. “I’m delighted that Gryffindor won but…” she trailed off as she took in the looks on the students’ faces. “What happened?” she asked, sounding more concerned.  
  
“Van Der Lakk had a nightmare and panicked, professor,” Percy said. “I was just telling them all to get back to bed.”  
  
“I didn’t have a nightmare!” Marcus shouted over Percy. “Professor! I woke up and saw Sirius Black standing over me holding a knife!”  
  
Silence swept over the crowd. Professor McGonagall stared at Marcus. “Don’t be ridiculous, Van Der Lakk, how could Black have gotten through the portrait hole?”  
  
“Ask that loonie,” Marcus said, pointing at the portrait hole. “Ask if he saw him.”  
  
Professor McGonagall looked suspicious, but turned back to the portrait hole and pushed it open. “Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man into Gryffindor tower?”  
  
“Of course, my dear lady!” Sir Cadogan cried cheerfully.  
  
“You did?!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed. “But, the password?!”  
  
“He had them!” said Sir Cadogan jovially. “Had the whole weeks! Just read them off a piece of paper!”  
  
Professor McGonagall came back in through the portrait hole. She was white, but Harriet had never seen an angrier person in her whole life. And as she lived with Vernon Dursley, that was saying something.  
  
“Which person…” Professor McGonagall asked looking around furiously. “Which abysmally foolish, careless, and irresponsible person _wrote down_ this week’s passwords and left them lying around?!”  
  
The silence that followed was almost deafening. There was a quiet shuffling noise and Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to foot, stepped into the open, and slowly raised his hand.


	19. The Bodyguards

“I have always found it curious that it is so much easier for people to accept fate as the explanation for events that happen which are to in their outside their control. I always found it easier to look at the size of the world, and later the universe, and conclude I was far too small for it to bother with me. Later, I decided if it would not bother with me, then I would make it bother with me. I retired the next day.”

 

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

  
  
By the time Harriet went to bed Sunday night, she wished more than anything she had one more day to recover from the weekend, because that Sunday was one of the longest days of her life.  
  
None of the Gryffindors slept that night. Everyone stayed in the common room, waiting for news on Black. It wasn’t until dawn that Professor McGonagall returned to tell them that Black had escaped.  
  
By that time, Marcus’ voice was hoarse from explaining to everyone exactly what happened.  “I was sound asleep, and I thought I heard something, but I thought I was dreaming. Like a ripping sound, which was Black cutting down my curtains. I didn’t realize that at the time. Then I felt a draft and felt my pillow move and I woke up and there was Black, standing over me with a great, long knife. He looked like a skeleton with hair… anyway we looked at each other and I just cried out and he ran for it.”  
  
At breakfast, the Great Hall was full of gossip as students debated with each other over how Black had managed to break into the castle twice. Harriet and her friends had a more puzzling concern. The question was: “Why had Black gone after Marcus?”  
  
They discussed it all the way through breakfast but got nowhere. Scott, who looked the most troubled, said the least. He just kept stealing thoughtful glances at Ronnie and Marcus.  
  
That was the one good thing Harriet could say about the aftermath of the second break-in. Without it ever being said, it seemed that everyone had forgiven each other for everything that had happened since Christmas. While Harriet was sure that Ronnie was by no means over her sense of loss over the death of Scabbers, now she was at least tolerating Hermione’s presence without rude comments. Still, something about all her friends sitting together once more was very reassuring to Harriet.  
  
The worst part was Neville. Professor McGonagall was so furious with him that she gave him a detention, banned him from future Hogsmeade visits, and forbade anyone to tell him the passwords to Gryffindor Tower. Now Neville had to wait outside the portrait hole for someone to come along who knew the password to let him in. Even worse, Harriet didn’t think it was the detention or the Hogsmeade trips that made Neville feel the worst.  
  
He felt the worst about his dittany plant, which Black had smashed and trampled in his escape attempt. “It was a gift from my uncle,” he said choking back tears as he held the smashed plant in his hands.  
  
Basheera, Parvati and Lavender were sitting around Neville, comforting him. Basheera had her arm around his shoulder, looking at the plant with a mixture of sympathy and thoughtfulness. Harriet was sure there would be a new plant in Neville’s future.  
  
By noon, the Fat Lady had been restored and Sir Cadogan had been returned to his place on the landing leading to Professor Trelawney’s classroom. Everyone was very pleased to see her back. She was still very jumpy, though she did seem touched by her reception from the relieved students.  
  
“We missed you so much!”  
  
“So glad to have you back!”  
  
“Sir Cadogan was a nightmare!”  
  
“It just wasn’t Gryffindor Tower without you here!”  
  
Despite her still frayed nerves, she did seem comforted by the presence of Professor Lupin and Professor Spring standing guard.  
  
“It’s just a temporary measure,” Professor Lupin reassured the curious Gryffindors. “A more permanent security team should be in place by this evening.”  
  
“Who’re they bringing in?” asked an older student Harriet didn’t know.  
  
“They’re not finally letting in the dementors are they?”  
  
“No-no,” Professor Spring said, waving a hand reassuringly. “The headmaster is still resolute, and rightly-so, in his stance that no dementor shall ever enter this school.”  
  
This seemed to reassure most of the students, but Harriet noticed Percy purse his lips with disapproval. Clearly, he still felt the dementors were a proper response to the threat. Harriet agreed with Professor Dumbledore. The dementors hadn’t done any good keeping Black out of the grounds, how would they be any better inside the castle?  
  
The security measures taken were stringent. Ronnie swore she saw Filch boarding up a mouse hole. As they passed through the Entrance Hall on the way to dinner they saw Professor Flitwick teaching the front doors to recognize a picture of Sirius Black. They made their way to the Gryffindor table and caught sight of something disconcerting. Almost the entire staff table was empty.  
  
 _Where is everyone_? Harriet thought. Professor Flitwick was out working with the doors, and Professor Lupin still guarding Gryffindor Tower, but what about Professor McGonagall or even more importantly, Professor Dumbledore? At present only Professors Snape, Sinistra, and Hagrid were there. _At least Hagrid’s here_ , she thought. _That’s comforting_.  
  
Harriet was beginning to feel exhausted. She was contemplating going to bed early when Professor McGonagall stopped Harriet at the doors of the Great Hall.  
  
“Potter, please come with me.”  
  
“Something wrong, Professor?” Harriet asked.  
  
“No, no, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said. “I’m just taking you to see the Headmaster.”  
  
Harriet swallowed, not altogether reassured. Professor McGonagall looked past Harriet and nodded grimly. Harriet turned to see Percy and Penelope approaching.  
  
“Ah, Percy, yes you come too. And Penelope.”  
  
“Something wrong, Professor? How can we help?” Percy asked.  
  
“Just come with me. Professor Dumbledore would like to see all three of you.”  
  
Harriet waved her friends on and began to follow Professor McGonagall. Harriet felt her sense of foreboding build as they drew closer and closer to Professor Dumbledore’s office. Finally they arrived and stepped on to the escalating spiral staircase.  
  
Professor McGonagall knocked on the door.  
  
“Enter,” Professor Dumbledore’s cheerful voice called.  
  
Professor McGonagall opened the door and they entered.  
  
Harriet felt slightly overwhelmed as she entered. The room was full of people. Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk. Professor Stratton was standing to the right of his desk with Dora’s father. To the left was the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Next to Fudge was his squat undersecretary.  
  
Harriet also recognized the head of the Auror office, Rufus Scrimgeour, and the nice Auror she had met that summer, Kingsley Shacklebolt. There was another man Harriet didn’t recognize. He had a very stiff manner, with almost unnaturally straight grey hair and a toothbrush moustache that was too straight to be allowed. Had he been wearing a suit instead of robes, Harriet would have thought him a bank manager, not a wizard.  
  
Fudge was looking particularly irritable, while Scrimgeour had a cold, calculating look. The secretary was scribbling down notes furiously while the new man was casually looking at his pocket-watch.  
  
“Ahh good, you’re all here,” Professor Dumbledore said. “We can begin the discussion.”  
  
“I don’t see that there’s anything to discuss, Albus,” Fudge said. “I cannot in good conscience allow you to bring a _mercenary_ force in to protect the school. Not when the ministry has so many tools at its disposal.”  
  
“Really? What with all your aurors busy scouring the country for _two_ mass murderers?”  
  
Harriet looked around. She hadn’t noticed where the voice had come from at first. She jumped when she spotted Headmaster Sherrod Howe sitting in the corner next to Fawkes, casually holding up a peanut, which the phoenix plucked neatly from his fingers and cracked open to get at the seeds inside.  
  
Fudge glowered at Professor Howe. “Yes. We can provide security trolls for instance, or _finally_ move the dementors into the school.”  
  
“Out of the question.” It was Mr Flamel who spoke this time. “The students of this school live in enough fear with Black and Kinney on the loose, we are not making their lives at school worse by allowing those terrors into the castle or the grounds. We cannot trust them. They already disobeyed orders and entered the grounds without permission.”  
  
“I quite agree,” Professor McGonagall said.  
  
Harriet stole another glance at Professor Howe. While everyone else was looking very serious, Professor Howe looked as though he could barely contain his glee. He winked at Harriet before returning his attention to Fudge.  
  
“These are not mercenaries, Minister,” Professor Stratton said. “They are a highly effective task force, highly respected and recommended.”  
  
Fudge didn’t look convinced. “They work for pay do they not? Militant forces for hire are mercenaries by definition.”  
  
“Like aurors then?” Professor Howe quipped.  
  
Fudge and Scrimgeour both glowered. “Aurors are government employees, Headmaster,” Scrimgeour snapped.  
  
“But you pay them to work for you?”  
  
Professor Dumbledore rose and the bickering stopped. “I understand your concerns, Cornelius, but I have positive past relations with these men, as does Professor Howe and Stratton.”  
  
Fudge’s undersecretary gave an involuntary snort that Harriet didn’t like. She gave an unconvincing throat clear to attempt to cover it. Professor Dumbledore turned his eyes on her but Harriet couldn’t read his expression. He turned to look at Harriet instead.  
  
“The real decision should fall to Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said.  
  
“Me?” Harriet said automatically.  
  
“Yes, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said. “They will be here to guard you, they should be met with your approval.”  
  
Harriet blinked. “Who’s going to guard me?”  
  
“They should be arriving shortly,” Professor Dumbledore said smiling.  
  
“I still don’t think they can be trusted, Dumbledore,” Fudge said. Harriet noted that Fudge had stopped referring to Professor Dumbledore by his first name. “Wait, arriving already? How could an owl have reached them so soon?”  
  
“Professor Stratton kindly offered alternative means of reaching them,” Professor Dumbledore explained. Professor Stratton nodded though he clearly did not like the attention being called to himself. “They also have their own methods of magical travel.”  
  
The new man stepped forward. “I will say, as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, I think this is a good move. It will create stronger ties with our allies in the Mediterranean. Aurochius is also highly respected in his community. Accepting his help in this will help foster stronger ties with the ministry and his people. Furthermore, they have guarded this school before, Cornelius.”  
  
Fudge blinked. “They have?”  
  
“Yes,” Professor Stratton said. “The last time was while Lord Voldemort—” everyone in the room but Professor Dumbledore, Howe, Stratton, and Harriet flinched “—was still powerful.”  
  
“You were only in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, Minister. You wouldn’t have known,” Professor Howe said, casually inspecting his fingernails.  
  
Professor Dumbledore gave Professor Howe a look but Howe ignored him. Professor Dumbledore turned to look at Harriet again. “Oh and I’m sorry Harriet, this is Mister Bartemius Crouch, who is the Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation.”  
  
“It is very nice to meet you, Miss Potter,” Mr Crouch said shaking Harriet’s hand very firmly and stiffly. Next to her, Harriet saw Percy trying to stand straighter, studying Mr Crouch as if taking mental notes. Clearly it had not taken long for Mr Crouch to make an impression.  
  
Everyone was distracted by a knock on the door. Professor Dumbledore smiled. “Ah here they are now. Enter!”  
  
The door opened. Harriet, Professor McGonagall, Percy and Penelope stepped aside. As Harriet watched, a man stepped through the door. He was wearing a silver robe and a long maroon sash. Despite the chilly March weather Harriet saw he was wearing sandals. He smiled broadly and spread his arms in greeting. He was short for a man, not much taller than Harriet was, with a ruddy complexion and a sharp, pointed goatee and thick, tightly curled black hair. That was when Harriet noticed the oddest thing. He had two goat-like horns coming out of his forehead just below the hairline and long goat ears.  
  
“Ah, Meinos!” Professor Dumbledore said striding forward. “How was your trip?”  
  
“Pleasant, pleasant,” Meinos said. “It’s been _far_ too long, Albus. And a heartfelt hello to you too, Bartemius!” Meinos’ voice was deceptively deep for his size and Harriet had a hard time placing his accent. It was one she didn’t think she’d heard before, but it gave her images of far-off exotic lands.  
  
“Ah and there you are, Ambassador,” Meinos said bowing towards Professor Dumbledore’s desk.  
  
Harriet wondered if he was talking about Mr Flamel, but she noticed Professor Stratton looking very awkward.  
  
“Indeed, Meinos, indeed,” Professor Stratton said rubbing a hand over his shiny shaved head. “And it’s Professor, now.”  
  
Meinos raised his eyebrows. “My mistake, then. Sherrod! Wonderful to see you again!”  
  
Harriet took in the rest of the group as Professor Howe and Meinos greeted each other. In particular, Fudge, Scrimgeour, and the undersecretary. Fudge and Scrimgeour were still looking disapproving, but the undersecretary alarmed Harriet the most. Now she thought no one was paying attention to her, the look on her face as she looked at Meinos wasn’t disapproval, it was disgust.  
  
“Minerva!” Meinos exclaimed, calling Harriet’s attention back to him. “Ah my dear, lovely lady! I would say you prove more and more the saying that women are like a fine wine, but this would be so untrue! With you our _finest_ vineyards could never hope to compete,” he said bowing deeply, taking one of Professor McGonagall’s hands and kissing the top roguishly.  
  
“Why thank you, Meinos,” Professor McGonagall said. Harriet was sure she was trying her hardest not to smile. “It is nice to see some things truly never change.”  
  
Harriet barely suppressed a giggle at the ever-suffering tone of Professor McGonagall’s voice.  
  
“And you must be Miss Harriet Potter,” Meinos said turning his attention to Harriet. “You have your father’s face and hair, but clearly shine with your mother’s eyes, bearing, and fiery spirit!” He said taking Harriet’s hand though he only bowed low over it.  
  
“Oh, I-uh-thank you,” Harriet said, feeling flustered herself despite the man’s strange appearance. “You knew my parents?”  
  
“Of course dear young lady,” Meinos said as he stood back up and smiled at her. The irises of his eyes were just as black as his pupils. “I would not go so far as to mischaracterize and call us friends but we were acquainted. I’m Meinos, a Satyr from the great city of Thessaloniki.”  
  
“A pleasure to meet you, Meinos,” Harriet said trying to be as polite as she could. However, if Harriet thought Meinos was odd, it was nothing compared to what was still waiting to come through the door.  
  
Meinos turned and smiled to Professor Dumbledore. “May I introduce the men? There are quite a few new faces since last time.”  
  
“But of course, Meinos, of course,” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully.  
  
Meinos nodded and turned to the door. “Come in, men.”  
  
Harriet’s jaw dropped. The first man step through the door was enormous. Harriet felt shock seep into her mind. The creature, or whatever he was, had to duck to fit through the door. He was over a foot taller than Professor Stratton, who was seven and a half feet tall.  
  
The newcomer had the head of a bull, with dark brown fur, long white horns, and bright brown eyes. His chest and shoulders were enormous and his skin was black. His legs were covered in brown fur, and had large cloven hooves. He wore silken shorts that moved easily with his gait. Upon his back was a massive double-bladed steel battle-axe with a blackthorn handle.  
  
After him, another entered carrying a shield along with his battle-axe. Behind him was a third dual carrying a shield and battle-axe, as well. The fourth had a cream coloured coat to contrast with his black skin and wore a long red robe. His weapon of choice was a beech stave. Following was an older man, perhaps around two to three times as old, Harriet judged by his white fur streaked with silver. He also wore a robe and carried a long oak stave. The final warrior was also aged, and carried an axe accompanied by a pair of daggers, that looked more like swords to Harriet.  
  
“The first ranks;” Meinos said, “the minotaur guards. Two will guard the front doors; two guards at the entrance to Gryffindor tower; and two each on rest to relieve the guards, to ensure they are always on alert.”  
  
“Yes, that should be sufficient,” Professor Howe said.  
  
Harriet kept studying the minotaurs. She had met many strange creatures, but the minotaurs just might be the strangest so far. She had met centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, and a talking horse, but somehow the minotaurs filled her with a deeper sense of wonder and seemed much more foreign to her, though they didn’t seem unpleasant.  
  
Meinos walked down the line in the order they’d entered. “Aurochious, Limius, Maranesa, Pajun, Sayaguesa, and finally Tudancian. You will not find braver, more alert guards anywhere.”  
  
As he said their names, each minotaur bowed and pressed their right fist to their breast. Meinos smiled proudly and held out an arm to the door again. “And introducing a new element we did not employ last time, but this time will prove most effective in detecting Black’s presence. Enter, lads!”  
  
Harriet supposed if she had less of a constitution she would have fainted. This time six more figures entered, but these were almost as strange as the minotaurs. They were only slightly taller than Meinos, but stood on goat-legs. They had human faces like Meinos as well as goat ears and horns. Unlike the minotaurs, even though their hooves were cloven, their footsteps were almost silent. They moved with precise, calculated steps. They wore dark grey tunics that were almost knee-length, tied with a sash at the waist. Harriet felt an uneasy prickling in her neck as she took in the sheathed daggers on their belts and the quivers of arrows and a short bows on their backs.  
  
“And here is our faun squad,” Meinos said. “Pan, Antonius, Mars, Jupiter, and Caesar.”  
  
Unlike the minotaurs, the fauns did not bow or give any sign of acknowledgement. Instead they were taking in everyone in the room with cold, calculating stares, sizing everyone up as potential threats. Their eyes moved to every window and door, as if memorizing the layout of the room and all possible entrance and exit points. While the minotaurs looked big and intimidating, Harriet felt in little doubt that the fauns were the much more dangerous of the newcomers by their very nature.  
  
“Thank you all for agreeing to come,” Professor Dumbledore said to the fauns with equal welcome as he’d given to the minotaurs. The fauns now bowed to Professor Dumbledore, before turning and bowing to Professor Stratton.  
  
“Ambassador,” they said as one. In spite of their formidable appearance, Harriet just managed to hold back a laugh as she heard a distinct bleat in their voices.  
  
Professor Stratton looked very uncomfortable again. “Please, it’s Professor.”  
  
The faun named Antonius looked disconcerted. “Professor? But you are—”  
  
Professor Stratton gave him a look and the faun fell silent. “My apologies, Professor.”  
  
“It’s quite alright, Antonius,” Professor Stratton replied.  
  
Harriet glanced back at Fudge, Scrimgeour and the secretary. Fudge was looking completely bemused, while Scrimgeour was giving Professor Stratton a very calculating look. The secretary was looking over the minotaurs and fauns with an expression Harriet couldn’t read.  
  
Harriet glanced at Professor Howe, who still studied the Minister and his companions’ disquiet with borderline glee.  
  
“The fauns will act as perimeter surveillance and as designated bodyguard details for Miss Potter and the other we discussed,” Meinos continued.  
  
“That would have been my recommendation as well,” Professor Dumbledore agreed.  
  
“Bodyguard details?” Harriet asked.  
  
“Yes,” Professor Dumbledore said courteously. “One will serve as your designated bodyguard, to stand watch at the door to Gryffindor Tower and to remain by your side at all times in the castle or grounds.”  
  
Harriet didn’t like the sound of this at all. However, she supposed she didn’t have much choice in the matter.  
  
“We will give you the choice of your bodyguard. Choose from any among them. I can give recommendations should you wish,” Meinos offered.  
  
“I-I see,” Harriet said. She looked over the fauns and felt she didn’t feel warm towards any of them. Even if they were much bigger, she would have felt more secure with a minotaur guard. They seemed calmer and their size put her in mind of Hagrid.  
  
As if reading Harriet’s mind, the third minotaur to enter the room, Maranesa, stepped forward. “If I may, Professor,” he said, his voice deep and resonating (which reminded Harriet of Epeius the Areion), “I think we would be improperly utilizing the fauns tying them down to bodyguard details. They are better applied as scouts, with the freedom to move at will.”  
  
“I agree,” said the faun named Jupiter. “We’re soldiers, not babysitters.”  
  
Harriet glowered. The minotaur named Aurochius stepped forward. “I offer to be Miss Potter’s bodyguard.”  
  
Professor Dumbledore turned to Harriet. “Well Harriet, it is up to you.”  
  
Harriet swallowed. “I… I think I will go with Aurochius.”  
  
“Excellent,” Meinos said. “Well, if there are no further problems, I believe we could all use some dinner. Shall we retire to the village for food and fun?”  
  
“Capital idea,” Professor Howe said cheerfully.  
  
“I shall escort Miss Potter back to Gryffindor Tower then,” Aurochius said. “And begin my duties.”  
  
“Very well,” Meinos said bowing to Aurochius. “You could not be in safer hands, Miss Potter.”  
  
“Now wait a minute,” Fudge said spluttering. “This has not been agreed upon by the Ministry!”  
  
“Unfortunately, Minister,” Mr Flamel said. “This is not a decision for the Ministry. This is an internal Hogwarts affair.”  
  
Fudge turned to Scrimgeour and Crouch. “Barty! Do something!”  
  
He did not find an ally in Crouch. “I have already stated my position. I agree to this measure, Minister. I think Rufus will agree that his office is too stretched to provide a proper defence of Aurors.” He paused briefly, to collect his thoughts. “I also agree with Albus and the Governor’s Board, Dementors are too untrustworthy and trolls too unpredictable. Not only are the minotaurs and Fauns trustworthy, but this is the most viable option for security and offers a stable building block for open foreign relations.”  
  
“Then it’s settled,” said Professor Howe. He turned to Harriet and Aurochius. “You two should probably retire now,” he continued giving Aurochius a significant look. Harriet took that to mean that the arguments were far from over.  
  
“Yes, and inform Aurora and Pomona they are relieved,” Professor Dumbledore said.  
  
Harriet followed Aurochius from the room. They moved down the spiral staircase. Harriet kept stealing awkward glances at Aurochius and he gave her a look that Harriet guessed was a smile.  
  
“Yes, my lady?” he asked.  
  
Harriet flushed. “Sorry, probably too many questions,” she admitted looking away.  
  
Aurochius gave a laugh that seemed to shake the walls. “That, I can imagine.”  
  
Harriet winced as the laugh hurt her ears but smiled. It was reassuring to know that despite his imposing nature, Aurochius did laugh.  
  
“So, why did everyone call Professor Stratton ‘Ambassador?’” she asked.  
  
Aurochius’ lips pulled tight. “I got the impression that he did not wish that information to be widely known. It would have been nice if he had given us prior warning of that. In the urgency of the situation it must have slipped his mind. An easy thing to overlook. But that is Professor Stratton’s business and I will not violate his trust, your bodyguard or not.”  
  
Harriet flushed. “Thanks for volunteering, by the way, I don’t want to seem rude but I didn’t like the look of the fauns.”  
  
Aurochius gave a sigh. “They mean well, but they are a gruff lot to be sure. Rough around the edges, but effective and honourable. They take their work very seriously, but they don’t like closed spaces or being stationary for too long.” He gave a deep chuckle. “And Maranesa sensed you were not all that thrilled at the prospect.”  
  
“So Meinos, was he… er… _flirting_ with Professor McGonagall?”  
  
Aurochius laughed again. “I do not know a female of any species Meinos would not flirt with. Just his nature as a Satyr. But he and Minerva are well acquainted from the last time our clan guarded the school. Meinos is a skilled tactician and an even better politician. I count him an invaluable ally.”  
  
“So he’s not your leader then?”  
  
“No, not as such. He is more our planner and public relations. Being the most-er-human of us gives him an advantage when we work for humans.”  
  
Harriet nodded digesting the information. “So, the Minister, er… called you mercenaries?”  
  
Aurochius’ lips tightened again. “Perhaps a more accurate description than we admit to. We offer our services to those who need them, but as in all things, we cannot feed ourselves on honour alone.”  
  
“That makes sense,” Harriet said. “So you’ll follow me everywhere?”  
  
“Almost,” Aurochius replied. “I will give you your privacy in the common room and your dormitory, as well as when you are inside classrooms so as not to be too intrusive. We are here to keep you safe, not miserable. Professor Dumbledore will introduce us to the school in the morning. We would have been here earlier to be introduced at dinner but there were… complications… and the message to us was delayed.”  
  
“By the Minister you mean?”  
  
Aurochius didn’t respond.  
  
“He said they should have allowed the dementors into the school, or hired security trolls.”  
  
Aurochius looked down at her. “You do not sound happy with those prospects.”  
  
“No… dementors are what boggarts turn into for me and I almost got killed by a troll in my first year.”  
  
“Hmmmmm, those are very good reasons for not wanting them around,” Aurochius said.  
  
Finally, they arrived at Gryffindor Tower. Aurochius introduced himself to Professors Sinistra and Sprout and informed them they could retire for the night.  
  
“I will see you in the morning, Harriet,” Aurochius said. “I will be standing guard outside the door until the regular guard arrives.”  
  
Harriet smiled up at him, finally feeling reassured. “Thanks Aurochius, goodnight.”  
  
Harriet gave the Fat Lady the password and entered the common room. Ronnie hurried over. “What’d Dumbledore want?”  
  
“Oh…” Harriet said. Now she was back in Gryffindor Tower, she was starting to realize how tired she was. “Just to tell me what my guard detail’s going to be.”  
  
“Guard detail?” Ronnie asked.  
  
“Yeah…” Harriet started moving towards the girls’ dormitories. “He’s gonna explain it to the school in the morning. I really need to sleep…”  
  
Ronnie let Harriet go and she climbed the stairs, her feet feeling unnaturally heavy. She entered the dormitory and was relieved to find it empty. She paused only long enough to take off her shirt and jeans before sliding under the covers, closing the bed curtains, turning off her oil lamp, and falling fast asleep.


	20. Uncomfortable Truths

“If only we could reliably apply the same vigour and outrage we show towards injustices against ourselves to injustices against others. The world would be a much better place for it I think.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

“Okay seriously, everything happens to you, doesn’t it, Harriet?”

It was just after breakfast the next day. They were waiting for the start of their first class, Transfiguration, and Parvati and Lavender were wasting little time in gushing over Harriet’s new guard detail.

“Most famous witch in the world, now you get your own big, beefy, muscly minotaur bodyguard to follow you everywhere,” Lavender whined.

“Honestly,” Hermione said in an irritable tone. “They’re not the same species as us.”

“There’s no need to be prejudiced,” Lavender snapped back.

“I’m not prejudiced! It’s a fact! They’re _not_ our same species!”

Lavender and Parvati looked unconvinced.

“Oh honestly,” Hermione said shortly. “I don’t think they’re anything less than us, just not us.”

The school overall had a split reception to the new guards. From what Harriet could tell, some seemed fascinated and interested, while others seemed intimidated. Still others (Slytherins in particular) seemed downright disdainful. Marcus Flint looked most put out about it. Harriet was sure Flint was planning to ambush her (or worse) before the final Quidditch match, which would be much more difficult to do with an eight and half foot tall half-man, half-bull following her everywhere she went. This realization in particular made Harriet feel much more appreciative of her new guard.

Harriet also was excited about the fact that having Aurochius as her guard returned some lost privileges. For example, Hagrid wrote to Harriet that morning about coming to visit, and with Aurochius as a guard, Harriet was allowed into the grounds once more to visit him. However, Harriet’s good fortune was clearly not extending to Neville. On top of the punishments he’d received from Professor McGonagall, he also received a howler that morning. Harriet had heard the term “howler” before, but had never witnessed one in action. It wasn’t pleasant.

Upon seeing the envelope, others around the table urged Neville to run for it and he wasted no time. He just managed to make it out of the Great Hall when, as far as Harriet could tell, the letter must have exploded. However, the noise was not that of a bomb blast (Harriet was still all too familiar with how those sounded), but of a human voice. A horrible human voice Harriet could only assume to be Neville’s grandmother’s, shrieking at him for bringing shame upon the whole Longbottom family.

Professor McGonagall let them in to the classroom and Neville sat in the back of the room sulking. Lavender, Parvati and Basheera were sitting around him trying to console him. Nearby, Dean and Seamus were looking on jealously.

“Maybe we should write howlers to each other; just say they’re from our parents?” Seamus muttered.

Dean and Seamus sniggered derisively though both were cut short by Tori and AJ who kicked the backs of their chairs, glowering.

That night at seven o clock, Harriet, Dora, Ronnie, Kieran, Marcus and Scott met up in the Entrance Hall with Aurochius to head down to Hagrid’s. Hermione said she had too much work to do. Aurochius in particular seemed pleased about the trip.

“Haven’t had the chance to talk to Hagrid properly since I was a calf,” he told them, smiling.

“You knew Hagrid as a kid?” Ronnie asked.

Aurochius nodded. “Yes, I was here with my father when he was guarding the school and I was just starting to learn our arts.”

He opened the door and went to take a step forward but paused and Harriet nearly walked into him. She peeked around him and saw Dora’s little sister, Emma, standing there looking terrified up at the hulking mass of Aurochius.

“Emma?!” Dora gasped, rushing forward and taking Emma’s hand pulling her into the school. “What on earth were you doing out there?!”

Emma swallowed. She looked like she was thinking very hard as her eyes darted from face to face. “I-I-I-I was walking back from Herbology and-and-and I stopped to fix my books in my bag and got behind and when I got back the door was closed a-and I was too scared to knock because I’d get in trouble for being out,” she stammered visibly trembling.

Dora grimaced in an ever-suffering way. “Okay, okay… well get inside before someone notices and you _do_ get in trouble,” Dora said not letting go of Emma’s hand and pulling her towards the Great Hall. “Let’s get you some dinner. You guys go on, tell Hagrid I’m sorry but…” she nodded towards Emma, rolling her eyes but finally smiling.

“Sure thing,” Kieran replied.

“But, I’m not hungry,” Emma protested as Dora pulled her along.

“Oh don’t give me that, you can’t have eaten since lunch,” Dora snapped.

“Oh, you’re right,” Emma muttered, her face flushed as they disappeared into the Great Hall.

Harriet and the rest turned back to Aurochius and saw him looking after the pair, his large jaw shifting back and forth absent-mindedly as he thought.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked, then felt worry seeping in. “You’re not going to tell are you…?”

Aurochius didn’t answer right away. “No, just odd. Thought I smelled something but I must have imagined it.”

“Smelled something?” Marcus asked.

“Yes, I remember smelling it before, I just can’t remember when or where…”

They went to exit but were stopped once again, this time when someone cleared their throat nervously behind them.

“Excuse me, Mister Aurochius?”

The group turned back again to see a girl walking towards them from the Great Hall. She was a Ravenclaw, one of the Japanese students, but Harriet couldn’t remember her name.

“Oh, hi Atsuko,” Scott said.

Harriet’s mind finally clicked. It was Atsuko Makeda, the Ravenclaw girl Scott had seemed sweet on their first year. Harriet remembered teasing him about it the night before her detention in the Forbidden Forest. As Atsuko approached, Harriet noted that despite looking a little awkward and unsure, her eyes were wide with fascination and interest as she looked up at Aurochius.

“How may I help you, miss?” Aurochius asked, politely.

“I… I was just wondering if I could ask you some questions… I-I have been interested in your people and culture ever since Professor Stratton taught us about you last autumn…”

Aurochius’ smile grew. “Of course.”

Atsuko grinned. “Oh, thank you!” she said beaming, now looking beside herself with excitement.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Scott suggested. His voice sounded strange.

“Oh, no that’s okay I don’t want to impose,” Atsuko spluttered.

“Nonsense,” Kieran said cheerfully.

“Yeah, too many boys around anyway,” Ronnie teased, making Marcus, Kieran and Scott roll their eyes.

Atsuko flushed and together they finally made their way down to Hagrid’s hut. Fang began barking as they drew near and Hagrid stepped out, beaming at them.

“’Ello there you lot! An’ good ta see yeh again Aurochius!” Hagrid said, clasping hands with Aurochius in a heart-felt greeting before ushering them all inside.

“Likewise, Hagrid,” Aurochius said smiling.

“Gaw last time I saw yeh, yeh were a calf nought much older’n’this lot,” Hagrid chuckled. He turned to the students and blinked in surprise but smiled at the sight of Atsuko. “Ah and there’s my star Care of Magical Creatures pupil! ‘Ello, Atsuko.”

“H-hello, Professor Hagrid,” Atsuko said blushing.

Hagrid beamed stepping back and gesturing for them to come in. As they entered, Harriet spotted the now familiar form of Buckbeak sprawled on Hagrid’s bed. She also saw that Hagrid wasn’t alone. Seated at his table was one of the fauns, Antonius, who was drinking from a large tankard. Next to Antonius was Meinos the satyr, and a man she recognized as Professor Morrisey, the Alchemy professor who had built the “anti-Basilisk” device last year.

Antonius set the tankard down and his ears and eyes quickly darted around the group, again giving Harriet the uncomfortable impression they were all being sized up as potential threats. Next to Harriet, Atsuko looked as though Christmas had come once more as she looked at the faun and satyr.

“Perfesser Morrisey and Meinos came down to have a chat and some drinks an’ Antonius ‘ere popped in fer a kip after his shift,” Hagrid explained.

“A _very_ good evening to you all, dear children,” Meinos said in his overly dramatic fashion.

“Ahhh yes, young Miss Potter and her friends,” Professor Morrisey said cheerfully. His cheeks were already a little flushed. “And Master McIntyre, discoverer of the basilisk.”

Scott nodded, and Harriet was sure he was doing all he could not to blush at the praise. He failed at it quite well.

“Evenin’,” Antonius said, curtly.

On her other side, Ronnie gave a snort that she tried to turn into a sneeze. Harriet was sure she had almost laughed at Antonius’ bleat. Judging by the way Antonius’ eyes narrowed as he took Ronnie in, he hadn’t been fooled. Likewise, Professor Morrisey did not look impressed.

Hagrid drew up more chairs for everyone and all but Aurochius sat down. Hagrid poured the students tea and offered them a plate of home-made Bath buns. Everyone with experience in Hagrid’s cooking refused the buns as politely as possible. Atsuko made to reach for one but Scott quickly put a hand on her arm when Hagrid’s back was turned and gave her a significant look, shaking his head vigorously. Atsuko flushed but nodded and lowered her arm. Antonius, however, plucked one up and bit into the rock-hard bun. It crunched loudly, making Harriet cringe, but Antonius chewed it with ease, leaning back in apparent enjoyment.

“So, how’re you lot getting on?” Hagrid asked looking over the group. “Thought from what I saw at breakfast and lunch that you lot were on the mend with Dora an’ Hermione?”

There was a slight coolness in Hagrid’s question that made most of the group shift in their chairs.

“We are,” Harriet explained. “Hermione just said she had too much work to do and Dora’s at dinner with her little sister.”

Hagrid nodded and sighed, though his face did turn back into a smile. “Met her little sis a few times. Sweet little kid. She’s stopped by a couple’r times ter ask about Fang.”

“Ask about Fang?” Scott asked.

“Yeh, quite a dog lover, it seems. Wantin’ ter know what I feed ‘im, how often, stuff like that,” Hagrid explained.

Harriet’s mind was churning. She remembered the other night when she woke Emma from where she’d been drawing, and the picture she’d drawn of herself and a large dog. With everything that had happened since she’d never had the chance to ask Dora about it. Did this mean that “Snuffles” wasn’t the Flamel’s dog after all? Maybe “Snuffles” was another dog from the forest that Emma had found. Harriet couldn’t imagine another dog running around Hogwarts without someone noticing it. Maybe Emma just wanted a dog of her own after seeing Fang? Maybe “Snuffles” just a figment of Emma’s imagination.

Harriet was distracted from her thoughts by Hagrid talking to Marcus. “How about you there, Marcus? Alright after what ‘appened? Already ‘eard all about of course but I’m sure it was right unsettlin’.”

Marcus shivered and nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty unpleasant…”

“I just don’t get why he went to your dorm,” Ronnie said shaking her head. “And your bed…”

“Well, he was a Gryffindor, correct?” Professor Morrisey said, taking a swig from his own tankard. “Maybe that was his bed when he was at Hogwarts. It is entirely possible he hid something in it all those years ago and wanted it back? I shall send a note to Professor McGonagall to look into that.”

“That… that is a very good point…” Scott said, scratching his chin in thought.

“It is, I mean, why else would he keep trying to get into Gryffindor Tower? What else would he be aft—” Atsuko added, though she trailed off as she looked from Harriet to Aurochius and put two and two together. “Oh, yeah…”

“Well, not to interrupt, but I believe you had some other questions, Miss Atsuko?” Aurochius said, mercifully changing the subject.

Atsuko’s flush grew and she nodded. “And, if he wouldn’t mind, I would love to ask you some questions too, Mister Antonius and Mister Meinos.”

“Certainly dear child,” Meinos said.

“Well I’ll answer what I can,” Antonius said and gave a bleat. Judging by the more cheerful look on his face, Harriet was sure that the bleat was really a laugh. Beside her, Ronnie tried not to giggle. Atsuko smiled and quickly produced a piece of parchment and a quill and ink.

“So, Mister Aurochius—”

“Just Aurochius,” he said politely.

“Sorry, Aurochius,” Atsuko corrected. “Would you mind if I asked first how old you are, and how old your kind gets? Professor Stratton mostly discussed historical events your people have been involved in but not really anything specific like that.”

Aurochius chuckled. “I am turning twenty-six this year. But I have many years ahead of me yet,” he said thumping the table with his knuckles. “Members of our race have lived into the three hundreds, though two-hundred to two-fifty is average.”

Atsuko scribbled furiously. As she did, Harriet was starting to feel a little embarrassed. She couldn’t help but feel these were questions she should have been asking Aurochius right away.

Professor Morrisey meanwhile was studying Atsuko’s furious scribbling. Harriet couldn’t help but feel as though Professor Morrisey was always measuring everyone he saw, but not like Antonius. It wasn’t as though he was judging how much of a threat they were. He seemed more like an appraiser, trying to gauge everyone’s value.

“And, what are family units like?” Atsuko went on.

Unless Harriet was mistaken, Aurochius’ lips tightened a little before he smiled again.

“Again, they’re not terribly different than yours. We minotaurs and European humans grew side by side. We lived alongside each other and learned from each other. In your tongue, our males are called bulls, females are cows, and our young are calves. You could not pronounce the names in your tongue I am sure.”

“Has not stopped Dumbledore or Crouch from learning how,” Meinos chuckled.

“That’s true,” Aurochius laughed in response.

Atsuko nodded, writing furiously. “So your kind existed alongside humans, and were not an offshoot or creation by them?”

As she asked, Antonius gave a snort and his head twitched as if shaking off a fly. Meinos put a hand on his shoulder and Aurochius gave him a sympathetic look.

“No, we were not created from humans. Our oral history tells us we were once a powerful magical species of bull that over time started taking similar evolutionary paths to those of your species, accelerated by magic. But those are mostly theories, as we have no written records from those early times,” Aurochius explained.

“Well that’s okay, we humans don’t either,” Scott said solicitously. “I doubt many species do, even sentient ones.”

“Some do…” Antonius said, a hint of bitterness in his voice as he took another swig from his tankard.

“Ah but I’m sure you are most interested to hear of the Satyrs,” Meinos said abruptly. He sounded casual, but Harriet was sure he had changed the subject on purpose.

“Oh, yes of course,” Atsuko said. In her eagerness, Harriet supposed she hadn’t noticed the subject change. “So, people often mistake your people and Antonius’?”

“Yes, it goes back a long way,” Meinos said. “A simple misunderstanding with big consequences, alas.”

Antonius snorted and his ears flicked irritably. Meinos’ almost permanent looking smile faltered briefly. This clearly was not the direction he had wanted the discussion to go.

“So, Aurochius said that his people can live to be three hundred, how old can your people live?” Atsuko went on.

Meinos laughed. “We have not the slightest notion.” He seemed reassured now that the conversation was moving away from Antonius’ direction.

“What?” Scott asked, blinking.

“You don’t know how long your people live?” Harriet asked.

“No, we do not count. We are born, we live, and we eventually pass on. That is enough. We gather in our ancestral forests every spring in a celebration of the birth of all things.”

“The Spring Equinox? Ostara?” Atsuko asked, dipping her quill again.

“Yes, Ostara or Eostre, No Ruz, Easter, Passover, we all view it one and the same. We celebrate the birth and continual rebirth of all life on that day, not simply our own. And so, we have no idea of our ages. I’m sure some books will make approximations, but we have no cares to read them.”

“So, how do you work out stuff like rank? Like, who’s in charge?” Ronnie asked.

Meinos’ smile grew. “We do not. We have no cabal, no true governance as you know it. We live and go our separate ways. We return to our ancestral homes to honour our traditions and festivals, and that is all.”

“Which festival do you like the best?” Ronnie asked.

“Oh spring, definitely spring,” Meinos said, his eyes twinkling in a mischievous way. “But I won’t elaborate anymore on that.”

Ronnie pouted, making Meinos laugh more. “I’m sure you will learn more about that in time, little one.”

“And what do you call your members?” Atsuko pressed. “Like Aurochius said males are bulls and females are cows?”

Meinos’ eyes twinkled and he looked off with a dreamy expression. “Ah but you already know, though you do not know they are called that. Our women, as you call them, are the nymphs,” he said in a wistful, delicate voice. His jet black eyes glossed over as he stared off into space.

“Nymphs?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes… so beautiful… so free… the embodiment of nature and the world at its purest. Oh you could never imagine…”

“Satyrs and nymphs are the same species?” Kieran asked.

“Oh yes,” Meinos said, his dreamy tone of voice continuing. “The most beautiful creatures on earth… they live to love and guide nature, they are the embodiment of all things good and beautiful in the world, the living representations of life, if that makes sense. We worship them… there is nothing on this earth more precious to us,” Meinos went on. However, he suddenly looked sad, his eyes and smile faltering.

“S-sorry,” Atsuko said, troubled. “I… I didn’t mean to bring up something painful… did something happen to them?”

“No, it is not your fault, child,” Meinos said. “We have lost them… well… lost our homes. There is no place for our festivals anymore, has not been for many of your counting of years. The nymphs have moved on through the world, and ever since, it has been our mission as Satyrs to not only find them again, but to find us all a new home.”

“How? What happened?” Kieran asked.

“The world has shrunk over the years, young one,” Meinos said. “We have been pushed from our homes, just as many have.”

There was an awkward silence before Atsuko turned to Antonius. “So, I take it from what you said earlier, your people know how you came about?”

“Aye,” Antonius said. “Unlike the minotaurs and satyrs, we fauns _were_ created by humans… by the Romans.”

He took another swig, finishing the tankard and thunking it down on the table again. He did not seem drunk, merely disgruntled. “Can’t hold it against them much, wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. But I sometimes wonder if we’d have been better off just being humans or goats, and not hybrids.”

“But why?” Atsuko asked, leaning forward.

There was an awkward silence. Finally Professor Morrisey spoke. “As killers, unfortunately.”

This created another awkward silence before Antonius spoke again. “As time went on, people dressed us up in their bastardized legends to be rather like Meinos’ people, but really we were bred as guards and assassins. ‘S’Why they picked goats… agile on their feet, quiet hooves… At first we kept both senators and the enemies of the Senate in line… then we kept enemies of the emperor in line… and at times dealt with the occasional out of control emperor if we felt he was a threat to the empire.”

He heaved a deep sigh. “Then the empire rotted from within and could not help but collapse. We had nowhere to go, our proud heritage lost having lived forever in the shadows. Now most don’t even know we’re real, or think we’re satyrs. Slowly dying out little by little. Our people’s whole life was the Empire… we didn’t even get names at birth. We had to earn names by our deeds. We carry that tradition still, except now we pick our own names when the clan deems we have earned the right.”

Atsuko wasn’t writing anymore. She was looking at Antonius with wide eyes and her lips pulled tight in a sympathetic grimace. Even Ronnie was looking troubled.

“And so you picked the name Antonius? After the general?” Atsuko asked.

“Aye, girl. My mind was always better at the strategy than the knifing. I can only hope as glorious an end as he.”

“But, he committed suicide,” Scott said, his eyes wide.

“Is it such folly to hope for a life of glory, to find a love so great that upon hearing of her death I cannot stand to live in a world without her? And to know that she so loves me in return that upon my own death she would act in kind?”

Again a long silence followed. Hagrid put an oversized hand on the little faun’s shoulder, but Antonius shrugged it off.

“Nah, it’s alright. Don’t mind me. We’re a proud people and keep to our old ways. It’s all we really have left of our identity, isn’t it?”

“Well, more people know about you now,” Harriet said. She didn’t know what had spurred her to speak, but now she understood more of why the fauns acted as they did, she also felt her sympathy for them grow. “And they know you’re helping keep them safe from people like Sirius Black, that’s bound to win over a few people, right?”

Antonius turned his fathomless, yellow eyes with their wide, horizontal, rectangular pupils onto Harriet. As she took the two in, Harriet wasn’t sure whose eyes were the more unsettling, Antonius’ goat ones, or Meinos’ pure black ones.

Antonius’ lips slowly curled into a smile. “That is true. Yes.”

Aurochius chuckled. “You’re never that easily comforted whenever one of us tries to tell you things like that.”

“Of course not! She’s prettier than you,” Antonius quipped.

Everyone, even Harriet, laughed. After that, the conversation returned to the ways of Aurochius, Meinos, and Antonius’ people. Harriet, however, felt her own curiosity growing but it was not for the general conversation. Her curiosity was for the quietest member of the group, Professor Morrisey.

“Yes, Miss Potter?” Professor Morrisey asked, as if reading Harriet’s mind.

Harriet flushed a little. “Sorry, professor, I was just wondering… this summer, when Professor Howe and Watkins—”

“ _Doctor_ Watkins,” Professor Morrisey corrected.

“—Doctor Watkins,” Harriet said. “Well, after they got me from Privet Drive this summer, Professor Howe said you sent him a message?”

“Did he now?” Professor Morrisey said, in a convincingly nonchalant tone.

“Yes… it… it seemed to come through a chessboard.”

Professor Morrisey chuckled. “We may have, _alternative_ forms of communication…”

“I-I see… so… you’re friends with Professor Howe?”

“In my fashion, yes. We share mutual objectives that makes cooperation advantageous to us both.”

“Are you spying for him?” Harriet asked without thinking.

Professor Morrisey shot her a look that was clearly irritable.

“Sorry, sir,” she muttered.

“No, I am not spying for him. I work with him, not for him.”

“So, why was Professor Dumbledore not happy I was moved? I couldn’t stay where I was… and don’t you work for Professor Dumbledore?” It was an awkward moment where Harriet felt herself torn in her loyalties to Professor Howe and Professor Dumbledore.

Professor Morrisey snorted. “Again, you are incorrect in your perceptions, Miss Potter. While I am a professor at this school, it is out of a courtesy to Professor Dumbledore, only. The school is valuable to my research, so I remain and in return I teach. Professor Howe _certainly_ does not work for him either. They’re contemporaries.”

As Professor Morrisey spoke, Harriet couldn’t help but notice a slight edge to his voice. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her questions, or perhaps he was jealous over Professor Howe’s position as a headmaster. She decided to change the subject.

“So that night, was Professor Howe watching the house, or—”

“Of course he was watching the house,” Professor Morrisey interrupted. “Howe and Dumbledore have been having you watched since you were born. Professor Howe perhaps is just a bit more hands on with his approach.”

Harriet blinked. “But why? What is it about me that causes all this? How did I just have to be born to cause all this trouble?” she asked, resentment rising.

“Ah, on that, alas, I cannot tell you,” Professor Morrisey said finishing his drink.

“Why not?” Harriet asked. Then worrying she’d sounded rude, she added, “Sir?”

“There are things you’re not old enough to know yet, Miss Potter,” Professor Morrisey replied. “Most likely, I have already told you more than you need to know. While I work with him, I am not as reckless as Professor Howe when it comes to sensitive information. Bearing that in mind, I will ask that for his sake, and mine, that you not mention it to anyone that Professor Howe and I work so closely. We find it beneficial to our work to keep such things quiet. That is why I was “unavailable” the night that our friends here arrived,” he said, gesturing to the faun, minotaur and satyr.

Harriet nodded. She wasn’t entirely sure if she liked or trusted Professor Morrisey all that much, but she was sure that if Professors Howe and Dumbledore trusted him he couldn’t be that bad. And if there was anyone in the world Harriet trusted anymore, it was Professor Howe. So for Professor Howe’s sake, Harriet decided to honour Professor Morrisey’s request, and keep the secret.

## * * * *

Fortunately, Neville’s fortunes turned the very next day. At breakfast that morning, four owls fluttered down in front of him, setting a large package on the table. He blinked in confusion before nervously starting to open the wrappings. A couple seats down, Harriet noted Basheera looking on with much more eagerness than curiosity. Harriet was sure that her prediction of Neville getting a new plant to replace his dittany had come true.

Sure enough, as the wrappings came away, Neville gasped revealing the box to a scale ‘living’ model of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. From what Harriet could read, the plants in the model were actually alive, and could be changed to plant almost anything. It was certainly more robust than a simple clay pot.

Harriet moved down the table to Basheera who was still looking on, barely able to contain her delight at the look of joy and wonder on Neville’s face.

“That was a bit flash, wasn’t it?” Harriet whispered in Basheera’s ear.

Basheera flushed slightly but her smile did not diminish. “Well, it was fitting… after all the trouble he went through…”

Harriet smiled. Basheera’s lips twitched as though she was trying not to laugh. “And as sweet and nice as he is… I could not help but think this would be much more difficult for him to break…”

Harriet laughed.

Outside of her guard, life at Hogwarts went mostly back to normal for Harriet. She went to classes, practiced Quidditch, visited Hagrid, and generally lived life as she always felt she should at Hogwarts. The thought of Sirius Black attacking her with Aurochius dutifully following her around was becoming laughable.

However, Harriet’s good mood was tempered when the Valentine’s Day Hogsmeade trip arrived. Harriet had asked if she could be allowed to go this time, as she now had Aurochius as a guard. Unfortunately, the staff had refused, and so instead of going into Hogsmeade for a much needed break from the aftermath of the second break-in, Harriet spent the day working on a vampire essay with Neville for Professor Lupin.

She was pleased to see that the rest of the school was adjusting well to the newcomers. Indeed, by March, it had become a game amongst the younger students in particular to play “Spot the Faun,” attempting to see the stealthy faun guards patrolling the upper levels of the castle, keeping a bird’s eye view of the grounds.

Adding to her troubles, by the time March came to a close, Harriet noticed that not everything was as “back to normal” as she’d thought. Despite having forgiven each other, Hermione was growing more and more distant from the group. She was spending more and more time alone in the library, and was short and snippy with everyone. What surprised Harriet the most was Hermione was the most irritable with Scott.

To make matters worse, Scott seemed to be responding in kind. He was sitting at the Gryffindor table less and less. Instead, he was now sitting at his own table, most often with Atsuko and her friend, Tomomi Itoh.

Atsuko was very nice, but part of Harriet wanted to see her as a sort of usurper, like she was breaking up the group. However, the more objective part of her mind noted that it was Hermione’s irritable attitude that seemed to be the cause rather than Atsuko stealing away Scott. In fact Scott seemed to be most active in seeking out Atsuko’s company. Several times Atsuko would stop to talk to Harriet and her friends and it was Scott who would lead her away to “study”.

Finally, Harriet took it upon herself to confront them. To Harriet’s consternation, both gave her almost the exact same answer. They were apologetic, and both insisted they were just so busy with school work and needed to study. Of the two, Scott was the most evasive in his answer, just saying that he didn’t want to bother Hermione and Atsuko was a good help on homework.

The final straws for Harriet fell by the start of April. With the Easter Holidays upon them, Harriet noticed that even Kieran and Marcus were starting to get distant. More and more they sought the company of Jeremy and Jackson. They often sat at the Hufflepuff table instead, reducing Harriet’s usual group of friends down to just Harriet, Ronnie, and Dora. It was frustrating to Harriet as there didn’t seem to be any trigger, just little by little everyone started to drift off their own ways.

In addition, Harriet was finally starting to get tired of Aurochius shadowing her everywhere. He’d been refreshing and interesting at first, but now he was starting to feel like an overly present shadow. She wondered if it was because her circle of friends had gotten so much smaller, making his presence much more obvious than before. She also supposed the knowledge Professor Morrisey had given her that she was always being watched, even outside Hogwarts, helped start her resentful feelings over the guards.

Even worse, as her friends became more distant, Harriet’s performance in Patronus lessons seemed to be decreasing. She was having such a hard time that finally Professor Lupin stopped her after a Defence Against the Dark Arts class to ask her about it.

“So Harriet, what is it that seems to be troubling you?” Professor Lupin asked in his soft voice.

“I don’t know,” Harriet lied, not really wanting to talk about it.

“Now Harriet, you know you’re not fooling anyone,” Professor Lupin said. “Your performance and focus in lessons and Patronus sessions has been suffering in recent weeks, and just last night Professor McGonagall was expressing concern over reports of your declining performance in Quidditch practices.”

Harriet sighed grudgingly. A mixture of resentment and sadness welled up in her and she felt her eyes begin to water involuntarily. “It’s my friends,” she explained, forcing herself to open up. “All this spring we’ve been hanging out together less and less, and I don’t get it.”

“Ah,” Professor Lupin muttered. Harriet noticed he didn’t seem surprised. “Yes, I had noticed something along those lines happening in the Great Hall over the last month or so. Along with a marked decline in friendly banter and an increase in politeness during Patronus lessons, yes…”

Harriet grimaced and sighed, sinking into a nearby chair. “I just don’t get it… I don’t know what I did or what I could have said or…”

Professor Lupin sighed too and sat on the edge of the desk to Harriet’s right. “Friends are complicated things, Harriet. It’s quite common for them to come and go. It’s the way of the world… sometimes you make friends and they last forever, others pop in and out of your life, and still others come into your life and then leave forever. You can never really know how or when. I know you hate to hear it at your age, but you are still very young,” Professor Lupin said kindly. “You have a lot of life left to learn and grow and experience. You will meet a great many new and wonderful people in your life, Harriet.”

Harriet nodded, taking off her glasses to wipe her eyes.

“Life is always changing, Harriet,” Professor Lupin went on. “I know it’s difficult to feel yourself change, but I’m sure if you think hard about it, you’ll realize that in only the last year you yourself have changed and matured dramatically. Do you feel like the same person you were at the end of the previous year?”

“No,” Harriet said thoughtfully. “Though I’m not covered in muck and basilisk blood so that’s an improvement.”

Professor Lupin laughed. “Ah Harriet, sometimes you remind me so much of James,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“You mean my father?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Professor Lupin replied. “I could just as easily picture him saying something like that.”

Professor Lupin looked away wistfully when suddenly his face fell and his knuckles lost some of their colour as he gripped the edge of the desk. “Then again, some things don’t change very much at all…”

“Sir?” Harriet asked, concerned.

Professor Lupin waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind, never mind,” he said and forced the smile back on his face. “Returning for the moment to the discussion of your friends. If you don’t mind my saying so, Harriet, you might want to consider _joining_ your friends in their widening friendship circles.”

Harriet felt as though she’d been kicked in the gut. She really didn’t have any excuse there. Though did she? She supposed it was arrogant to expect her friends to just stick with her without question, like they were her followers. They were perfectly free to make new friends. But at the same time, they were friends, and to the best of her knowledge she hadn’t done anything to drive them off or upset them. Had she? They could have invited her, Ronnie, and Dora along at least.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about your friends, Harriet,” Professor Lupin continued. “You’re a good person with a big heart who has led a harder life than most. You have a knack for attracting good people to your side. Trust that talent, it will serve you well.”

Harriet flushed and finally smiled. Then something else occurred to her. “So… when you say friends in and out of your life… would that be like you and Mr Dusk?”

Professor Lupin smiled in earnest now. “Yes, Harriet. Now, you should run off before Aurochius gets too concerned.”

Harriet grunted. “Yeah, can’t keep my shadow waiting,” she muttered.

 “Yes,” Professor Lupin replied with a half-smile. “Exactly like James.”


	21. Back to Hogsmeade

“There are three constants of human life. The most well-known is of course change. Less well-known are destiny and legacy. Both are either rejected or embraced, and both always have their own dangers and rewards.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Harriet was good on her word to Professor Lupin. As the days went by, she made sure to go sit with Kieran and Marcus at the Hufflepuff table. She was starting to be glad she did as the next couple of weeks went by. The Hufflepuffs (with the noted exception of Zacharias Smith who still seemed to resent the fact that Harriet had not been the Heir of Slytherin after all) were quite welcoming and friendly. Her particular favourites were the McGee twins, Avery and Ellery, and Skye Sutler.

As the next two weeks passed, Harriet was pleased to note that she was finally starting to be able to tell the McGee twins apart, if only by personality. Avery was the quieter of the two, and much more studious. Ellery on the other hand had all the makings of a wild-child. She was loud and flamboyant, and rather excessively concerned with her appearance and popularity as opposed to Avery. Yet despite her otherwise vain nature, she laughed easily and was pleasant to everyone.

Skye in particular seemed more Harriet’s type of friend. She was quiet and very shy, despite this being almost the end of their third year of schooling. She was also a great lover of animals, which combined with her quiet, peaceful demeanour put Harriet in mind of a blonde, much younger, much smaller (and much, much prettier) female version of Hagrid.

If Harriet thought her hard times were over, however, she was mistaken. The final blow to Harriet’s morale came two days before the Saturday of the next Hogsmeade trip. Harriet and her friends were leaving for breakfast that morning. Aurochius greeted them just outside the portrait hole as always, though this time he looked uncharacteristically grave.

“What’s up?” Harriet asked, her apprehension rising.

“Bad news, I’m afraid,” Aurochius said.

“Sirius Black didn’t attack someone, did he?” Harriet asked. “Or Kinney? He didn’t bomb anything else?”

“No, no,” Aurochius said quickly. “Nothing like that. Well, you know we were talking about letting you resume Hogsmeade visits.”

Harriet’s heart sank. Aurochius didn’t need to say more, but he did. “Well, one of the fauns reported catching Black’s scent near the edge of the forest around Hagrid’s cabin last night. We think he’s going to make another attempt at a break in. Needless to say, we’ve decided that it would be safer if you remained here at the school where we can keep a proper eye on you.”

Harriet sighed. “Okay…” she said, trailing off feeling dispirited.

Aurochius did look sufficiently apologetic. The reasonable part of Harriet’s mind knew that Aurochius was probably right, and he did seem sincerely sorry. The less reasonable part recognized that yet again, she was being denied the chance for fun with her friends through no fault of her own.

Harriet’s friends all acted very sorry for her.

“It’s not fair,” Marcus muttered. “You have all of them as guards, they could all go and keep you safe.”

“Yeah, cuz that’d be fun, having a whole herd of minotaurs following us everywhere we go,” Harriet said, stabbing at her eggs with her fork without much interest.

“Well more fun than cooped up in Gryffindor tower hanging out with the first and second years while everyone else has fun,” Dora said.

“Yeah, though it doesn’t matter cuz that’s what I’m going to be doing anyway,” Harriet sighed.

“Well, we don’t _have_ to go to Hogsmeade,” Kieran said.

“Ugh, no, I’m not going to make you guys all miss out on the fun because of me,” Harriet grumbled. “I’ll be fine, I’ll get some homework done.”

“Well, there is the cloak, right?” Dora said.

“Dora!” Hermione hissed from where she was sitting nearby. Apparently, Harriet sneaking into Hogsmeade again without permission was enough to rouse Hermione from her self-imposed exile. “Harriet can’t go into Hogsmeade! If she gets caught she’ll be in so much trouble, and what if Sirius Black’s there?”

“What do you care?” Ronnie grumbled. “You’ve barely spoken to us for weeks.”

Hermione flushed and her lips tightened. Harriet wasn’t sure if she was biting back an angry retort, or trying not to break into tears. Now Harriet saw her, Hermione did look dreadful. There were heavy bags under her eyes and her hair looked even bushier and more unkempt than usual.

“I… don’t think that’s a good idea, either,” Kieran said, looking uneasy.

“Oh come on, Kieran, Harriet deserves a break,” Ronnie said.

“I think I agree with Kieran, actually,” Marcus said. “We don’t know what Black’s planning…”

“Okay, he’s broken all the way into Gryffindor Tower, if he can do that and he was really seriously after Harriet, I think he would have made a real move by now, don’t you?” Dora argued.

“Maybe what he wanted was a weapon or something?” Marcus suggested.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t he just use it while he was _there_ in Gryffindor tower?” Dora asked in a snippy tone.

“Okay, okay,” Marcus said throwing up his hands. “But still what if Harriet gets caught?”

“Last time I went to Hogsmeade I went around without the cloak and no one was any the wiser,” Harriet said. “If I have the cloak with me, there’s no way anyone will ever know.”

She didn’t know what it was, but the thought of sneaking out was even more appealing to her than just the act of going to Hogsmeade alone. It felt pro-active, even natural, like she was meant to do it. She wondered if it had something to do with what Professor Lupin had told her, about reminding him of her father. Harriet also remembered overhearing Professor McGonagall in the Three Broomsticks during the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas, talking about how her father had been a troublemaker too, like Fred and George.

Besides, Professor Lupin and Mr Dusk had been in the same group of friends as her father. Now Lupin was a professor and Mr Dusk had a very nice shop in Hogsmeade. Clearly it hadn’t hindered their lives very much, had it? Well, Professor Lupin was often the worse for wear, but his life and health had been increasing steadily as the year went on, hadn’t it?

“Up to mischief, are we?” the all too familiar voice of Fred Weasley muttered quietly in Harriet’s ear.

“What’s it to you?” Ronnie said.

“Everything,” Fred said cheerfully. “George and I _love_ mischief.”

“Too right, Fred,” George added, grinning.

Fred and George squeezed onto the bench, sitting either side of Harriet.

“Well, if you lot want a diversion to get past the minotaurs, there’s definitely ways of making that happen,” Fred said plucking an apple from the table and rubbing it on his jumper before taking a bite.

“Like what?” Harriet asked, feeling a mixture of dread and curiosity. She, Ronnie and Dora all leaned in as Fred swallowed and went on.

“Well, it’ll have to be something well planned out,” George said seriously. “Minotaurs are clever blokes, with a really good sense of smell. You can’t just sneak past them with your cloak, Harriet, they’ll know you’re there.”

“So what, drop a dung-bomb in the portrait hole to cover her scent?” Dora asked.

“Oh no, we’ll need to be more clever than that,” Fred said. “You definitely underestimate their sense of smell. I’m not entirely sure how we’ll work it yet… but if I know one thing, it’ll take more than a dung-bomb to fool them…”

## * * * *

“So… tell me how exactly using twelve dung-bombs was that much cleverer than using one?” Harriet muttered.

She was back in the tunnel leading from the one-eyed witch’s hump to the basement of Honeyduke’s. Fred was just ahead of her, and he gave her a disgruntled look over his shoulder.

“Quiet you, it worked, didn’t it?”

Harriet rolled her eyes. She was appreciative of the effort to get her out of the castle and into Hogsmeade, and that it had worked. Fred had enlisted the help of two younger girls from Slytherin house named Lexi Munoz and Lola Flor de Agua. Harriet had never really met either girl, but it apparently took very little for Fred to convince them to stage the dung-bomb attack, pretending to be carrying out just another incident in the long-standing Gryffindor v Slytherin feud. It worked so well the only worry Harriet had now was that even if people couldn’t see her, they would smell the lingering scent of the dung-bombs and get suspicious.

“But we stink now,” Harriet grumbled.

“It’ll be mostly gone by the time we get to Honeyduke’s, and then the smells of the shop will cover it up, you’ll be fine,” Fred said casually.

“You’re speaking from experience on this?”

“Of course! George and I, well…” Fred trailed off, looking uncharacteristically dour and walked on.

Harriet grimaced and kept following. Fred had worked alone on this particular bit of mischief. Apparently Erica had overheard Fred and George planning out the incident and told them off for risking getting Harriet in more trouble as well as putting her in harm’s way. While Fred had not been deterred, George had balked and pulled out of the project. It had become clear to Harriet ever since Erica’s sorting the previous school year, Erica was probably the only person in the world besides Fred who could tell George what to do.

Using the cloak, it was much easier for them to get into the shop this time.

“You know, I almost feel guilty for coming into Hogsmeade without something to bribe those little whipper-snappers with,” Fred whispered in Harriet’s ear as they made it onto the shop floor. “I’ll have to send them something later.”

They exited the shop and headed into a nearby alleyway where Fred slid out from under the cloak. “Right, happy shopping, Harriet,” Fred said smiling at a spot about a foot to the left of Harriet’s head.

“You too,” Harriet said and headed off for the Three Broomsticks where she was going to meet up with her friends.

She managed to sneak into the pub by waiting for someone to open the door and then following them in. Being this well-disguised in such a public place was a bit surreal to Harriet. She had used the cloak to sneak around the school plenty of times, but managing to pass unnoticed by one or two people was a much different situation than an entire room full of people not noticing her.

She spotted her friends sitting in a corner and made her way over to them. She had expected it to just be Kieran, Marcus, Ronnie, and Dora, but she was very pleased to see Scott sitting with them with Atsuko and Tomomi. Hermione was apparently still upset over Ronnie’s rude comment to her the other day at breakfast, and had come into Hogsmeade on her own. Harriet started over but paused. What if Atsuko or Tomomi told on her?

She shifted from foot to foot anxiously, trying to decide what to do. Just then Marcus got up and headed for the restrooms. Harriet moved quickly and caught up with him before he got there.

“It’s me,” she said just loud enough to be heard.

Marcus started at the sound of her voice. “Blimey, I’ll never get used to that,” he said, clutching his chest.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know if it was safe to join the table with Atsuko and Tomomi there,” Harriet whispered.

“Oh yeah,” Marcus said, smiling down at Harriet’s chin. “Don’t worry about them.”

“Ta,” Harriet said. “I’ll head over.”

Harriet made her way over to the table and sank into Marcus’ vacated chair.

“I made it,” she said, causing everyone to jump just as Marcus had.

“Seriously, give us a little more warning than that,” Scott grumbled, rubbing his knee where he had bumped it on the table leg.

Harriet rolled her eyes.

“No trouble?” Kieran asked. He sounded torn between disapproval of the situation and relief that Harriet hadn’t been caught.

“Nope, went off without a hitch,” Harriet said. She was distracted by a tugging on the cloak and turned to see Tomomi holding part of the cloak, inspecting it closely.

“This fabric is amazing,” she said with keen interest. “It doesn’t feel like silk or any other fabric, it feels like… like water,” she went on with amazement.

“Thanks,” Harriet flushed. She looked around, hoping no one noticed Tomomi apparently playing with thin air.

“Where did you get it?” Atsuko asked, moving over to inspect the cloak as well.

“Uh it was my dad’s,” Harriet explained.

“So, where do we wanna go first?” Dora asked, excitedly, changing the subject.

“How about the Shrieking Shack?” Ronnie suggested.

“Ugh, why?” Tomomi asked, letting go of Harriet’s cloak finally. “It’s so creepy.”

“Creepy is cool,” Ronnie replied. “And we never made it the last two Hogsmeade weekends.”

“Yeah, I’d… I’d rather like to see the Shack too,” Scott said. His tone was strange and even though she was invisible, Scott seemed to be determinedly not looking in her direction.

At that moment, Marcus returned, awkwardly pulling over another chair, clearly hoping no one noticed him getting another chair despite there already being a chair there which to the rest of the world looked empty.

“Well, I know I wanna head to _Dusk til Dawn_ ’s at some point, too,” Dora suggested.

“Yeah, me too,” Marcus said. “Wanna look at what he has in stock for sports gear for boys.”

“Yeah, I could use some new football socks, mine are getting a bit worse for wear,” Ronnie said.

“Oh, you’re the one pushing the Muggle-sports initiative?” Atsuko asked Marcus.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Marcus said, beaming with pride.

“You two like Muggle-sports?” Dora asked.

“Well yeah, we’re both Muggle-borns,” Tomomi replied.

“Well, that’s settled then,” Kieran said. “Let’s go to the Shack first, then Mr Dusk’s shop?”

“Perfect,” Harriet said. “Oh, maybe let’s hit up the pet-shop before Mr Dusk’s? I want some owl treats for Hedwig.”

They rose and Harriet followed them out of the pub. Being the one in the cloak it was easier for her to take up the rear rather than risk one of them running into her and giving her away. They were almost to the edge of town when Harriet spotted something that made her pause and tell the rest of the group to hold up. It was Kenley Tyler and Draco Malfoy, standing alone together and apparently in the middle of a heated argument.

“Ugh, just leave them be,” Ronnie said dismissively. “I’ve got better things to do than worry about anything that git’s up to.”

“You know, those two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately,” Dora said scratching her cheek in thought. “Could be worth checking out. Why a bigot like Malfoy and a Muggle-born like Kenley would be hanging out so much is a puzzler.”

“Seriously, you guys have someone with an invisibility cloak and you’re debating using it to spy this much?” Tomomi asked.

Kieran sighed with resignation and seemed like he was about to say something but Harriet didn’t wait. Tomomi was right, and the two were standing in public, it wasn’t like she was trying to listen to a conversation through a window or something. She snuck as close as she dared, and listened.

“It’s not that simple!” Draco said defensively as Harriet finally paused. “My father’s not going to drop it just because I say so. Besides, the stupid thing did way more damage to me than I did to it.”

“You did insult it after being told not to,” Kenley retorted.

“Oh yeah, because that’s a perfectly valid response, ‘you insulted me, so I’m going to slice you open’!”

Kenley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “The hippogriff’s an animal, Draco, you can’t expect it to think the exact same way you do.”

“Fine,” Draco said. “I’ll try and get him to drop the case, but I’m making no promises…”

“Good,” Kenley said. “Is Flint still on you about the match?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how I can get out of that,” Draco muttered. He was talking so quiet now Harriet had to strain her ears hard to hear.

“Growing a back-bone would help,” Kenley retorted.

“I’m the Seeker, and it’s my team!” Draco snapped. “We’re Slytherins, we do anything to win.”

“Even cheat?” Kenley asked, her voice very cool now. “Still says to me you need to grow a backbone, if you’re in that much doubt about your skills you’re going to cheat.”

Draco gave an aggravated grunt and stormed past Kenley towards the Hogsmeade high-street, throwing up his hands in frustration. Kenley sighed looking after him, equally angry and stamped her foot before heading in the opposite direction.

Harriet ducked out of the way as Kenley stormed past. Harriet returned to her friends, trying to process what she’d overheard.

“Well that was weird,” Harriet said.

“What’s that?” Ronnie asked. Everyone leaned in to Harriet’s general direction to listen.

“Well, first they were talking about Buckbeak… I think… I think Kenley is trying to get Malfoy to try and talk his dad out of the case against him.”

Dora blinked. “Wow, from what I know of Lucius Malfoy, if Draco succeeds it’ll be a miracle.”

“Wait-wait-wait,” Marcus said. “Are we talking about the same Malfoy? _Draco_ Malfoy? Draco ‘I’m an evil ferrety git who would drown puppies for fun’ Malfoy?”

“Is he really that bad?” Atsuko asked, sounding sceptical.

“Tell him you’re a Muggle-born and see what happens,” Marcus brooded.

“Hey, I’m just telling you what I heard,” Harriet said impatiently. “Then they started talking about the upcoming Quidditch final I think. By the sound of it, Flint is planning a lot of cheating.”

“Well that’s not exactly news,” Dora said. “I could have told you that.”

“I could have guessed that,” Harriet said. “But still, Kenley was trying to talk him out of it and I think… I think he was listening.”

“Well, didn’t look like that from here,” Ronnie said. “The way he stormed off.”

“I think he’s just frustrated because he doesn’t know who to listen to.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big conflict of interest,” Kieran said reasonably.

“Well, at least that solves why those two have been so cozy lately,” Dora said thoughtfully. “Sounds like Kenley’s picked up a pet project trying to reform him.”

Ronnie snorted. “Fat chance.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Scott said deep in thought. “We have to consider the fact that, whatever else he’s done, he is at least listening to what she has to say.”

“We should probably get going if we want to get to all the shops we want today,” Kieran said, drawing their attention back to the present. They headed off to the Shrieking Shack, and it looked every bit as creepy as Harriet had heard. It was very run down, and all the windows and doors had been boarded up tight.

“Nearly-Headless Nick says a really rough crowd lives here,” Ronnie said, leaning on the fence looking at the shack with great interest.

“Yeah, maybe,” Scott said rubbing his chin.

“What, are you saying generations of people living here in Hogsmeade have been wrong?” Dora asked.

Scott shrugged. “Just saying, when’s the last time anyone actually heard one of the ghosts? The breaking and screaming people used to talk about?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t asked,” Ronnie said. “Why?”

Scott shrugged again but did not say more.

“I wonder what made them decide to haunt just this house?” Tomomi asked. “No one lives here.”

“It could just be very angry ghosts,” Kieran said. “Or the ghosts of mentally unbalanced people. Not unthinkable.”

“No, worth considering,” Scott said, but he didn’t sound very interested. Then, to Harriet’s surprise, Scott actually hopped the fence and started toward the house.

“Scott, what are you doing?!” Dora gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

“I just want to take a look,” Scott said.

Harriet furrowed her brow. Scott was up to something, she was sure of it now. Scott was usually the first to admit that he was not the towering pillar of courage, but he had followed a basilisk at great risk to his life in his determination to find out where its lair was located. This must have been the same kind of determination turned courage that Scott had utilized that night.

He was so determined to prove his theory, whatever it was, he was going to actually walk up to “the most haunted building in Britain” to prove it. The trouble was, Harriet was sure that the question of whether or not the Shrieking Shack was actually haunted was not what Scott had been obsessing over for weeks. What was he up to?

Scott reached the first step of the front porch. He put his foot on it and it creaked and cracked loudly. He tried the second step and it seemed more firm so he stepped up. He moved cautiously across the porch, checking his footing for rotted boards and he finally reached the front door.

“Don’t know what he’s looking for,” Ronnie said quietly. “Fred and George have tried to get in several times now, but it’s boarded up too tight.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. Of course Fred and George would have tried to get inside.

Scott moved to the windows first, trying to peer in through cracks. “Too dark,” he called back. “I can’t make anything out.”

“You’d think if there really were ghosts in there, they would have retaliated by now…” Atsuko said.

“Maybe they’re just trying to lull him into a false sense of security?” Ronnie suggested.

Scott moved off to the side of the Shack. He was kneeling low, studying the ground closely.

“Now what are you looking for?” Marcus called.

Scott didn’t answer. He kept going and finally came around the other side. He apparently did not find what he was looking for, for he climbed back on the porch looking disappointed as he made his way to the front door. He tried the handle but it didn’t budge.

“Think I could get away with trying alohamora here?” Scott asked, fingering his wand in his pocket. “Without the ministry getting too hacked off?”

“I… wouldn’t try it…” Kieran said. Harriet noted an expression of deep concern on Kieran’s face as he watched his best friend investigate.

“What’s he on about?” Harriet asked Kieran in an undertone so Scott wouldn’t hear.

Kieran shook his head and didn’t answer. Finally, after several attempts to budge the door open with his shoulder, Scott gave up and returned to the group.

“Well, maybe the ghosts have moved on?” Dora suggested. “I mean, like Tomomi said, no one lives here. Maybe they got bored and found somewhere else to haunt?”

“Maybe,” Scott said, though he did not seem convinced.

The impromptu investigation over, they now made their way back into town.

“You know, how about someone goes with Harriet to the pet shop while the rest of us go to _Dusk til Dawn_ ’s?” Dora suggested as they neared the high street.

“Good idea,” Kieran said. “I’ll go with Harriet, you lot do your shopping and we’ll catch up.”

Harriet and Kieran parted company from the rest and made their way towards the pet shop.

“So, seriously, what is Scott up to?” Harriet asked.

Kieran worked his jaw uncomfortably. “I… I don’t know if you want to know… I know he doesn’t want you to know…”

“He doesn’t want me to know? Why?” Harriet asked, perplexed.

Kieran sighed. “He thinks you’ll be mad at him if you knew.”

“What?!” Harriet insisted, actually grabbing Kieran’s arm to stop him. He sighed and looked into the alley beside _Dusk til Dawn_.

“Here, I’ll explain back here,” Kieran said. Harriet followed him into the alley and Kieran ducked between two large bins and sighed.

“Okay… Scott…” Kieran started, thinking hard about how to word what he was trying to say. “He think’s Black might be innocent.”

“He what?” Harriet asked. The absurdity of this statement struck Harriet like a slap in the face.

“It-it’s just a theory!” Kieran said hurriedly. “He just sees a lot of things in the case that don’t make sense, and a lot of things Black has done that don’t square right with the official story, that’s all.”

“Like what?” Harriet asked. She didn’t bother to keep her disapproval out of her voice.

Kieran grimaced. “Well just like, you remember that board he had at Christmas?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, stuff like that,” Kieran explained. “And then things like his last break-in. Why did he go to Marcus’ bed? You have to admit, at least, that there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense. Just, you know Scott, he can’t let a mystery go unsolved, but you and he got to be such good friends over the summer he’s terrified of how mad at him you’ll be over this. It’s why he’s been hanging around with Atsuko so much lately, she’s helping him with his investigation, and it’s why he and Hermione have been so at odds with each other lately because she doesn’t ag—”

At that moment, Kieran was cut off by a loud, clambering, clanging noise from further down the alley. It sounded like it came from the back of Mr Dusk’s shop. Before Harriet knew what had happened, something very large and black barrelled around the corner heading straight towards them. Harriet just managed to jump out of the way in time as it shot past.

“GET BACK HERE YOU BASTARD I KNOW IT’S YOU!” cried the angriest voice Harriet had ever heard. There was the sound of running footsteps and a jet of red sparks smacked into the side of the bin right in front of Harriet’s face. She shrieked in shock and stumbled backwards, falling against the wall and the cloak slipped off her. When Harriet looked up again, she was looking right into the very angry face of Mr Dusk.

“ _What-the-hell-are-you-doing-here_?!” Mr Dusk demanded. His face was so strained Harriet could see a vein in his forehead.

“Do you have any idea how close you—do you know what that—come on!”

Mr Dusk was so angry he wasn’t forming coherent sentences anymore. He grabbed Harriet’s arm and pulled her to her feet. Harriet just managed to grab up the cloak before he also took hold of Kieran’s arm and pulled them forcefully back down the alley, away from the high street towards the back of his shop.

He pulled them inside the shop without a word and into a small office area. One door read “Mr Daniel Dusk: Owner” while another read “Storage” and another “Inventory.” He pointed to a small row of chairs and Harriet and Kieran sat without needing to be told. They watched as Mr Dusk walked through another door into what Harriet assumed to be the front of the shop, leaving them alone. Harriet had no inclination to move until he returned.

“We’re in so much trouble,” Kieran muttered.

Harriet didn’t say anything. Kieran was right. They were in serious trouble.

Just then the door to the room marked “Storage” opened and the boy they had met during Harriet’s first trip to Hogsmeade, Hyland Stevens, poked his head out looking around.

“Daniel, something wro—oh, hello you two,” he said cheerfully spotting Harriet and Kieran. His smile faltered as he took in their faces. “What happened?”

Harriet grimaced more. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Gotcha,” Hyland said and drew up a chair. “So, you lot are third year, right?”

Kieran nodded.

“Cool, we’re about the same age then,” he said sitting in the chair.

Harriet sighed, resigned to a conversation now that Hyland was clearly not going to go away.

“So, you work for Mr Dusk?” she asked, more trying to pass the time than out of any real interest.

“Oh no,” he said smiling. “Well, not like full time employee or anything. Hogsmeade’s my home. I work a little bit for Ab at the Hog’s Head and he gives me a place to stay. I work a bit for Rosie at the Three Broomsticks and she makes me food. I work a bit for Daniel and he gives me clothes. It’s all around a quid-pro-quo thing.”

“Quid pro quo?” Harriet asked, blinking.

“Yeah, it’s Latin. It means “something for something,” Hyland explained. “I do work for others and they give me the stuff I need. It’s why I love this place, I always get something for something.”

“But you’re only thirteen or fourteen?” Kieran asked. “Can’t they just take care of you as is?”

“Fourteen, and I don’t mind it,” Hyland said waving a dismissive hand. “Besides I get a lot more than I give if you ask me. Like Daniel, he gives me clothes but he also teaches me stuff. Just wish I could go to Hogwarts too…” he said trailing off, sounding morose.

Harriet and Kieran shared uncomfortable looks.

“Sorry,” Hyland went on. “Just gets lonely. It’s why I look forward to Hogsmeade weekends so much. All the other kids my age, but that’s why I like the refugees who live here in the summer. Some of the first real friends I’ve had, like Antoinette…”

He trailed off again but looked back up at them with wide-eyed interest. “So, what does the castle look like?”

Harriet blinked. “The castle? You mean Hogwarts?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve lived in Hogsmeade your whole life and you’ve never seen the castle?” Kieran asked, perplexed.

“Nope, just the ruins,” Hyland said, shrugging.

Harriet and Kieran exchanged another glance.

“Ruins…?” Kieran asked.

“Yeah, all they look like to me,” Hyland said as though this was perfectly normal.

Kieran shook his head. “So, um, what kind of work do you do for Mr Dusk?” Kieran asked, changing the subject.

“Oh this and that. Whatever he needs me to do. I was just looking around for boggarts.”

“Boggarts?” Harriet asked. This very odd day was getting odder and odder by the minute.

“Yeah, I like them,” Hyland said as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

“But, don’t they—”

“Hyland?”

Mr Dusk had returned. He did not look quite as angry, but his expression was very cool as he looked down at the three teenagers. Behind him, Dora, Ronnie, Marcus, and Scott were looking at Harriet and Kieran with nervous, worried expressions.

“Would you mind the shop for me for a bit? I have some things to take care of,” Mr Dusk said.

“Oh sure,” Hyland said, jumping up eagerly. “See you two around,” he waved back to Harriet and Kieran as he left for the shop floor.

“Yeah,” Harriet said unenthusiastically. She was sure she was going to be expelled now, or at the very least suspended.

Mr Dusk sighed and sat in the seat Hyland had just vacated. He summoned four more chairs for the rest.

“Right, you lot… Aurochius knows you’re here now… He’s on his way now and I’m not going to lie, he’s bloody livid. As am I.”

Harriet winced. “Are we gonna be expelled?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Mr Dusk’s face relaxed and he leaned back in the chair.

“No, fortunately I managed to get the message to Aurochius without it being intercepted. I sent a message to Remus too and he’s ready to be your alibi, Harriet.”

Harriet didn’t find this to be very reassuring. She was pleased that she wasn’t going to be expelled, but she was sure that Professor Lupin was going to be just as disappointed in her. She didn’t think she could stand to see disappointment in his lined, weary face.

“Now, I have to say, as disapproving as I am of this whole event, I might have expected this of you, Flamel, and you Weasley, but definitely not you two,” Mr Dusk said turning his gaze on Kieran and Scott. The two boys flinched as though Mr Dusk had bellowed at them, though he barely raised his voice.

“Coming in to Hogsmeade, even with your dad’s old invisibility cloak, was incredibly dangerous, especially without your guard, Harriet,” Mr Dusk said. “It was simple luck that you weren’t—well, suffice it to say you were lucky I was the one who found you.”

Harriet blinked. She was very sure that was not what Mr Dusk had been going to say first.

“You’re really not reporting us for Harriet sneaking out?” Marcus asked, his voice full of stunned disbelief.

Mr Dusk rubbed his eyes clearly torn between his anger and exasperation. “No… first of all, I’d be the biggest hypocrite in the world. Second, honestly, all I care is that we found Harriet before Black found her first. To be honest, I don’t even _want_ to know how you got out of the castle, even with the cloak… now… to make this more convincing, I need you five to head back into the school first. That way Aurochius can walk back with Harriet and just say he went out for a quick drink in the Three Broomsticks and leave no one the wiser as Harriet goes with him under the cloak. Alright?”

Harriet’s friends nodded. They rose as one and Mr Dusk led them to the door.

Kieran paused on the threshold, looking back at Harriet. “We’ll uh…”

“See you at dinner,” Harriet said, still sounding and feeling quite miserable.

Her friends left and Mr Dusk walked back over to her, sitting back down in the chair.

“Sorry…” Harriet managed to say in a very small voice.

Mr Dusk sighed and flicked his wand. The door to his office opened and a tray with a teapot and two cups on it floated into the room. He set the tray down on the seat next to him, tapped the teapot with his wand and instantly steam began billowing out of the spout. He poured two cups of tea and handed one of them on a saucer to Harriet.

“You don’t have to try so hard, you know?” Mr Dusk said as he picked up his own teacup and saucer.

“Sir?” Harriet asked.

Mr Dusk waved a hand. “You don’t have to call me “sir,” Harriet, or “mister” or anything. Just Daniel, alright?”

Harriet nodded.

“And I mean, well, Remus said that you’ve started showing tendencies more in line with your father than before lately. In fact, he said he was worried that after having pointed it out, you would start acting even more like your father than normal.”

Daniel sipped his tea and gave Harriet a raised eyebrow. “As we can see, he was correct to think so.”

Harriet felt her sense of shame grow. “I’m just… so frustrated… things keep happening to me and I have no control over them and I just have to accept them…” she admitted. “Why is it so wrong I wanna, you know, go shopping and take trips and things without worrying about some nutter or other wanting to kill me all the time?”

Harriet’s shame was starting to bleed off into anger, now. Daniel sighed setting down his teacup and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking Harriet straight on.

“I get that, Harriet, I really do. But at the same time, you’re not a normal girl. Horrible things happened to you, things no one deserves. But that being said, you’re going to spend your already difficult life being even more miserable if you spend all of it obsessing over how different it is, you see? If you spend your whole life worrying about what everyone else gets to do that you don’t, you’ll miss a lot of the wonderful things you can already experience.”

“Like what?” Harriet muttered, unconvinced. Daniel’s mouth twitched, almost smiling.

“Well you’re gonna have to find that out for yourself, aren’t you? Another thing you won’t be able to do if you spend your time worrying about what you can and can’t do.”

Harriet slumped in her chair. Daniel had a point. Harriet fished around for something else to talk about. She looked at the steaming teapot and something she hadn’t thought about for a while floated back into her mind.

“Mister Du—I mean, Daniel, I have a question about Professor Lupin.”

Daniel had been reaching back for his teacup but froze and gave Harriet a cautious look. “Oh yes?”

“Yeah, well, it’s about him and Professor Snape…”

Daniel seemed to relax. “Ah, I see. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, Professor Lupin’s always nice enough to him, but Professor Snape doesn’t seem to like Professor Lupin much, more than he usually doesn’t like other Defence Against the Dark Arts professors.”

“Ah,” Daniel said, taking a sip of his tea and thinking. “Well, I’m not going to lie, Professor Snape went to school with us, me and Remus and James.”

Harriet noted that Daniel omitted Sirius Black from the list, but overlooked it.

“Long story short, we didn’t like each other much. He disliked James the most, but he was definitely not overly fond of Remus either.”

“Yeah, I heard he didn’t like my dad very much,” Harriet said. “But I can’t imagine why he’d hate Professor Lupin too.”

“Well, old grudges die hard sometimes,” Daniel said evasively.

Just then, the door opened and Aurochius ducked through the door. He certainly did look very angry. Harriet felt her shame come welling back up inside her.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Aurochius said, his voice very cool.

“A pleasure,” Daniel said rising. “Right, cloak back on Harriet.”

Harriet nodded and slipped the cloak back over herself. She thanked Daniel for the tea, and followed Aurochius back out of the shop and back up to the school.


	22. House Rivalry

“The more imminent the change in a system, the less balanced it becomes. The system constantly attempts to correct. The change is inevitable, as all change is, though the process of change is always temporary before a system of equilibrium is struck once more.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

     

It was the Thursday after the Hogsmeade trip. Harriet was in the library with Kieran, Marcus, Ronnie, and an even more vigilant Aurochius. He had been keeping an even closer eye on Harriet over the past week since the Hogsmeade incident. Harriet wished he wouldn’t; she still felt guilty after seeing the look on Professor Lupin’s tired face. He hadn’t said a word, but his look of disappointment was enough to make Harriet swear to herself that she would never do anything so reckless again.

At the moment, the four were working on an exceedingly unpleasant essay for Professor Snape on the nature of bloodroot poison. Professor Snape had seemed even more irritable than usual lately. Harriet wondered if it was because of Professor Lupin’s continued popularity making it seem unlikely Professor Lupin would be gone by the end of the year, thus costing Professor Snape yet another opportunity to be Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Hermione had just walked up to them, a letter in her hand, tears in her eyes, “I just thought you ought to know… Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed.” Her lip wobbling as she held out the letter.

“What?!” Ronnie declared indignantly slamming her book shut and drawing a disapproving look from Mr Robertson, the new librarian. He took being a librarian very seriously, but did not seem quite as stand-offish as Madam Pince had been.

Hermione held out the letter to Harriet, who took it and read. It was so splotched with Hagrid’s oversized tears that it was very difficult to read.

 

_Dear Hermione,_

_We lost. I’m allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts._

_Execution date to be fixed._

_Beaky has enjoyed London._

_I won’t forget all the help you gave us._

_See you in class._

_Hagrid_

 

“They can’t kill him,” Harriet said handing over the letter to Ronnie. “Buckbeak _isn’t_ dangerous!”

“It was Malfoy’s father,” Hermione said, sniffing and sinking into an empty seat at their table. “You know what he’s like…”

“Guess Malfoy didn’t manage to talk his dad out of it after all,” Harriet sighed.

“If he even tried at all,” Marcus grumbled.

“Well Dora did say it would be impossible to talk his dad out of it,” Harriet said reasonably, before mentally chastising herself for speaking up in defence of Malfoy.

In spite of everything Malfoy had done over the previous two school years, something about the argument with Kenley had nested in Harriet’s mind and would not leave.

“Well, there will be an appeal,” Aurochius spoke up.

Harriet turned to look up at the towering minotaur. His tone was softer and gentler than it had been since the previous Saturday as he looked down at Hermione.

“An appeal?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes, in capital cases there is always an appeal,” he explained.

“Well, that’s good news,” Marcus said cheerfully.

Hermione shook her head, “Like it’ll make a difference,” she said hopelessly. “Nothing will have changed…”

“Yes it will,” Ronnie said in an uncharacteristically determined tone.

“How?” Hermione asked.

“You won’t be doing all the work yourself this time, I’m going to help, like I should have been doing all along,” Ronnie declared.

Without another word, Hermione had leapt up from her chair and hugged Ronnie tight around the neck.

“Oh Ronnie, I’m so sorry about Scabbers,” Hermione sobbed into Ronnie’s shoulder.       

Ronnie looked shocked but only for a moment before she hugged Hermione back. “It-it’s alright… he was old… and he was sick… maybe it was the better and faster way for him to go, like Fred said… and hey, maybe Mum and Dad’ll get me an owl now,” Ronnie said smiling.

“Well, we have Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow morning. We can talk to him then,” Kieran said reassuringly.

Harriet nodded. She wanted to go see Hagrid now, but there wasn’t time. They still had their patronus lesson that night, and after that it would be too late. She sighed closing her book.

“Well, I’m gonna head to the owlery,” she said. “I have to send him something before then to let him know I heard before patronus lessons.”

“Yeah, maybe we all should,” Marcus agreed.

“Definitely,” Ronnie said. “Besides, it’d be a good way to show him we’re not all fighting anymore.”

### * * * *

Harriet was anxious to get to Hagrid’s class the following morning. Hagrid wasn’t taking the news very well. He seemed almost numb, and barely focused on actually teaching the class. In fact, it was awkward for Harriet. As much as she wanted to talk to Hagrid, he had handed over teaching duty to Erica and Epeius, who were teaching them all about Porlocks.

“Now, Porlocks are interesting and very useful creatures to have around,” Erica explained as the small creature peered around Epeius’ legs, giving dark, mistrusting looks at the assembled students. It looked to be around two feet tall, covered in shaggy grey hair, with sharp, beady little eyes that glinted through a thick grey fringe, a big nose, little arms ending in four-fingered hands, and goat’s legs.

“They have a symbiotic relationship with horses of all kinds,” Erica went on, though she was also keeping her distance from the Porlock. “Though they are very mistrusting of humans, that’s why I asked Epeius if he wouldn’t mind helping out.”

“Yes…” Epeius said in his slow, deep voice as he looked down at the shy little creature. “They were an adjustment when I stayed at the stables in Hogsmeade this winter…”

“You don’t have them in America?” Dora’s friend, Sae Miyazaki, asked.

“I don’t think so, I’ve never heard of them before,” Dora’s other Slytherin friend, and refugee, Courtney Thomas, mused.

“No,” Epeius said. “But they are rather helpful once you get used to them. They make sure you’ve got your blankets at night, make sure you’re watered, things like that.”

“They’re typically found around the Dorset area here in the UK and in southern Ireland,” Erica said. “And that’s what the ones around human owned horses do. In the wild they clean horses of skin parasites and watch for predators from the horses’ backs. In fact it’s been argued by some that it was early humans observing this behaviour that gave them the idea of riding horses.”

The class continued with further discussion on the nature of Porlocks. Harriet and her friends made their way to Hagrid the moment the class was over.

“All my fault,” he told them sullenly. “Got all tongue-tied… they was all sittin’ there in them black robes, lookin’ down on me an’ makin’ me nervous an’ I kept droppin’ me notes and forgettin’ all them dates and cases yeh looked up fer me, Hermione… then Lucius Malfoy got up—”

“Hey!” Marcus grunted as Goyle bumped into him. He and Crabbe smirked stupidly as they passed them on their way to the school, following as ever in Malfoy’s wake.

Harriet glared but noticed that it was only Crabbe and Goyle who were smirking. Malfoy on the other hand was keeping his head so low that Harriet could barely see his neck between his blonde hair and the collar of his black robes. The little bit of his neck she could see looked redder than normal.

“Well, not much you could have really done, Hagrid,” Aurochius said patting Hagrid on the shoulder. “We all know Lucius Malfoy usually gets what he wants where the Ministry is concerned.”

“Money talks,” Dora said angrily.

“Heh, you should talk there,” Ronnie jabbed elbowing Dora in the ribs.

“Oh don’t start fightin’ now,” Hagrid said mournfully.

“We’re not!” Dora and Ronnie said in unison, holding up their hands and looking worried.

“Yeah, that’s just kinda our shtick,” Dora explained putting a hand on Hagrid’s arm. “We’re fine, we promise.”

Hagrid nodded. “Well, all that’s left fer me ter do is make sure that the rest of Beaky’s time is the best he’s ever ‘ad, I owe him that much.”

“It’s not over yet, Hagrid,” Ronnie said defiantly. “We’re all going to help you work on the appeal.”

Hagrid gave Ronnie a smile, though Harriet could tell he wasn’t holding out much hope. Hagrid left them at the door and turned back to his cabin. Harriet felt her heart sink as he pulled out his table-cloth sized handkerchief and blew his nose.

“You know I’d consider him a monster if he wasn’t such a cry-baby.”

Harriet grimaced at the sneering voice of Pansy Parkinson. She and Pixie Fanfarró were standing just inside the doors to the entrance hall, most likely waiting for Harriet and her friends to enter before taunting them.

“Oh shove off will you,” Marcus groaned.

“Ooooo tough words from a Muddie,” Pixie jabbed back.

Harriet saw Marcus’ hands clench into fists.

“Just ignore them,” Hermione said tilting her nose in the air.

“You know he’s supposed to be a _professor_ ,” Pansy said. “More like pathetic if you ask me.”

It happened in an instant. Before Harriet even knew what had happened, Hermione had spun around, taken two strides towards Pansy and slapped her hard across the cheek. Pansy stumbled back and bumped into a bench, plopping down on it and staring in disbelief at Hermione. Pixie was also gaping at Hermione, too stunned to react. Hermione raised her hand again but this time Aurochius stepped forward and grabbed her wrist.

“That’s enough!” Aurochius said sternly.

“Let go!” Hermione struggled. “She can’t dare call Hagrid pathetic! She’s foul! Evil!”

“That is enough, Granger.”

Everyone froze. It was Professor Snape. He strode towards the little group, looking as menacing and bat-like as ever. “What is going on here?” he asked, his black eyes scanning the group.

“Granger lost it, Professor!” Pixie gasped. “Just started slapping Pansy for no reason!”

“That’s not true!” Dora, Ronnie and Marcus all declared at once.

“Parkinson called Hagrid pathetic because he’s upset about his hippogriff which is only going to be executed because Malfoy was an idiot,” Marcus snarled.

“Yeah, and Fanfarró called Marcus a ‘Muddie,’” Dora added.

“Liars!” Pixie hissed venomously. By the look of it, Pansy still had not fully recovered from the slapping.

To Harriet’s great surprise, Professor Snape turned to Aurochius. “Is this true?” he asked.

Aurochius gave a snort. “Yes.”

“I see,” Professor Snape said before turning back to Hermione, Pansy and Pixie. “Detention, Fanfarró. Two detentions and fifty points from Gryffindor, Granger. Physical violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts under any circumstances. Get on to class now, all of you.”

“What?” Pixie gaped, aghast. “What did I do?!”

Professor Snape rounded on Pixie so fast that Harriet jumped. “I will not have my students besmirching the name of our house using such language. If you think I am so dim as to not see through the term ‘muddie,’ then you are gravely mistaken and clearly deserve another detention.”

No one spoke. No one moved. Pixie looked as though Professor Snape had slapped her too. He turned away again with a loud rustling of his long robes and stormed away from them all.

“Wow…” was all Ronnie managed to mutter as they slowly drifted away from the mortified figures of Pansy and Pixie.

“Well, he’s still a jerk, but the looks on their faces…” Dora said wistfully before turning off to follow Professor Snape towards the Slytherin common room. “I’ll catch up with you at lunch.”

“See you,” Harriet called. She was still trying to digest what had happened. By the looks of it so was everyone else.

“I can’t believe Snape took your word, or even asked,” Marcus said, looking awed. “He always gives preference to his own students, especially those two.”

“Professor Snape has his faults, but he has always been polite to us. I knew him long ago during his last two years at Hogwarts. He did not run with a good crowd, but I never heard him use derogatory terms like that. That is not to say he couldn’t have used them in private company, but given his reaction there I am doubtful he did,” Aurochius sighed. “And then there is the fact he may have grown over the years. A phase he grew out of. Perhaps in his youth he kept such things private, but he never used terms like ‘mudblood’ that I know of.”

“It was still worth it,” Hermione said under her breath, giving a small, sheepish smile as they finally reached the Charms classroom.

“Come now, come now, you’re very nearly late,’ Professor Flitwick said anxiously as they entered the room. “We’re going to be studying Cheering Charms today.”

“Oh excellent,” Hermione said. “I could do with one of those.”

“Think we all could,” Harriet said.

After Charms it was time for lunch. All of the Gryffindors were overcome with giggles and carefree attitudes as the effects of the cheering charms lingered on. Today, they sat at the Hufflepuff table with Dora, Jackson, Jeremy, Isabella, Skye and the McGee twins. Scott, Atsuko and Tomomi eventually joined them.

To Harriet’s surprise, Atsuko was looking at Hermione with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“Of course,” Hermione said, her voice still a little dreamy from the Charms lesson. “Well, I’m a bit rankled over Pansy and Pixie being stupid but that’s water under the bridge,” Hermione explained. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you weren’t in Arithmancy this morning,” Tomomi said, also studying Hermione carefully.

“What?! OH NO!” Hermione shrieked leaping up from the table. The news apparently shocked the effects of the cheering charms right out of her. She ran off to the staff table and began talking rapidly to a surprised looking Professor Vector.

“Arithmancy? But she can’t have been at Arithmancy,” Ronnie said. “She was with us all morning in Care of Magical Creatures and Charms.”

Tomomi blinked finally sitting down. “But, how can she be in two classes at once?”

“That’s a very good question,” Jackson said scratching his cheek. “A lotta folks been asking questions like that this year.”

Harriet found Hermione’s schedule strange, but Harriet’s mind was otherwise preoccupied. The cheering charms were starting to wear off, when she thought of her next class: Divination.

Harriet was coming to positively dread the class. They had been studying palmistry lately, and Professor Trelawney regularly used Harriet as an example for everything terrible that could happen to someone as indicated by their palm lines. In fact, Harriet had quite lost her appetite now that she was worrying about Divination.

Hermione re-joined them. She still seemed flustered but a little reassured that Professor Vector had given her the necessary homework with some extra work to help her catch up. Harriet knew she would regret not eating later, but nothing on her plate looked appetising. Harriet pushed the plate away and rose with Ronnie and Hermione as they headed off to Divination.

As usual, the Divination classroom was stuffy and hot, especially with the month of May almost upon them. However, one change had come over the room. In the middle of each table was a crystal ball, each glowing faint and white as they approached. At first, Harriet thought the balls were spinning but on closer inspection realized that each ball was full of swirling, pearly mist.

“Guess we’ve finally moved on from palmistry,” Ronnie said, taking her usual seat.

“Yeah,” Harriet said sitting with her. “Not complaining if it means I don’t have to put up with her parading my hands around the room.”

“Good day to you all,” came Professor Trelawney’s misty voice. She stepped dramatically out of the shadows of the room (or at least it would have been dramatic if she had not made the same entrance for every single class so far) and took her usual seat beside her roaring fireplace and gazed around at them all.

“I decided last night that it was time to introduce the crystal ball a little early. “The fates informed that your examination in June will undoubtedly concern the orb, and so I thought it was only fair to give you as much time as possible to learn its use before then.”

Hermione scoffed, distracting several nearby tables.

“Wow, so you predicted what you were going to put in your own exam? That’s simply _amazing_ ,” Hermione grumbled, causing more than a few nearby students to snigger, though drawing very nasty looks from Parvati and Lavender.

Professor Trelawney however acted as though she had not heard. “Crystal gazing is perhaps the most refined and elegant art in the realm of divination. I will make it clear that if you do not see anything today when gazing into the Orb’s infinite depths to not be discouraged. I do not expect any of you to master its use in just the first day. Now, let us all close our outer eyes, take deep breaths, and focus on clearing our inner eyes and super-conscious.”

Ronnie began to break down into giggles as Dean and Seamus crossed their legs on their poofs, touched their thumbs and forefingers together, closed their eyes and began to emit soft hums. Harriet felt stupid sitting there pretending to calm herself for an hour’s worth of staring into what seemed to be a glorified snow globe. When she did finally turn her attention to the crystal ball, it became apparent that no amount of ‘clearing her inner eye’ was going to help her in the slightest.

Dean and Seamus were continuing to clown around when Professor Trelawney wasn’t looking, making more than a few of the other students start to giggle. Hermione was tutting, though Harriet wasn’t sure if it was Dean and Seamus’ antics that were on her mind, or if the incident in the entrance hall with Pansy and Pixie had her attention; or, if it was the missed Arithmancy class, or her growing displeasure at Divination as a whole. Harriet decided it was probably all of the above.

After fifteen minutes, Neville gave a forlorn moan. “Has _anyone_ seen anything yet?”

“Yes, I think I’m getting something,” Jackson Lee said, staring with determined concentration into his table’s crystal ball.

“What is it?” Tori asked, looking sceptical.

“Yes… yes I see it… it’s very clear now.”

“What?” Rachel asked, leaning over next to him.

“We’re due for some fog.”

Laughter filled the room; Hermione’s the loudest. Professor Trelawney, Parvati and Lavender looked scandalized.

“Now really,” Professor Trelawney said disapproving, “you’re disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!”

She crossed the room, heading towards Jackson, Rachel and Tori’s table but passing Harriet’s on the way. She stopped abruptly and turned, looking at the crystal ball on Harriet’s table. Her magnified eyes were wider than ever and her hand was trembling as though she’d seen a ghost. Harriet’s heart sank, she knew what was coming.

“I… I see something…” Professor Trelawney said, her voice barely a whisper as she leaned down over their crystal ball, “It’s something moving, black and ominous…”

“Wow an ill omen, I _never_ would have guessed,” Dean said, echoing Harriet’s own thoughts.

Professor Trelawney paid him no mind. “Yes… oh you poor dear, it’s here, plainer than ever before. Stalking toward you, ever closer, ever hungry for the soul it longs to take to the other side! The Gri—”

“Oh come on!” Hermione exclaimed. “That stupid Grim thing again?!”

Professor Trelawney gave Hermione a look of unmasked anger. Parvati and Lavender were glaring at Hermione and whispering back and forth.

“How many times have you seen the Grim in Harriet’s tea leaves, bird entrails, and now her crystal ball?” Hermione went on.

Professor Trelawney stood, clutching her shawls tighter around her indignantly. “I’m sorry to say, my dear, that from the very moment you entered this classroom it was clear to me that you did not possess the proper mind and imagination required for Divination. Indeed, you are perhaps the most hopelessly mundane student I have ever had the misfortune to teach.”

“Fine!” Hermione spat slamming her book shut and cramming it into her bag. “I’ve had enough, I give up. I’m done.”

She swung her book bag over her shoulder, stormed to the trapdoor, flung it open, dropped the ladder, and climbed down, slamming the trapdoor shut after her.

“ _Mundane_?” Rachel asked glaring at Professor Trelawney. “You know she’s the top student in the year?”

“One of the top in the school,” Harriet said also coming to Hermione’s defence.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be doing near so well if it wasn’t for her helping me with homework,” Ronnie added.

“Enough!” Professor Trelawney snapped and the room quieted but the angry muttering lingered. “Return to your crystal gazing at once, in silence.”

The room did go back to crystal-gazing, though angry mutterings continued. Professor Trelawney strode around the room in a huff when suddenly Lavender gave a squeal of excitement that made everyone jump.

“Oooo! Oh, Professor! I just remembered! You foresaw her leaving, didn’t you?! You said it ages ago in our very first class! _Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever_!”

Professor Trelawney beamed at her. “Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. I had hoped that I had misread the signs, but the inner eye is ever a burden, you know?”

Professor Trelawney crossed over to join Parvati and Lavender.

“Someday Hermione’s having, huh?” Ronnie asked miserably.

“Yeah,” Harriet muttered returning her attention to her crystal ball.

“But… Easter was almost a month ago,” Tori said, looking at Parvati and Lavender with open disbelief.

“Ugh, you think that really matters to them?” Rachel hissed.

Harriet sighed. As the class went on, she debated more and more following Hermione’s example, or at the very least, asking Professor McGonagall if she could transfer to another class at the start of next year.

### * * * *

“Right, Slytherin leads us by two hundred points exactly. This means we have to beat them by more than that to take the Cup, which is a tall order. Fortunately, that’s where Harriet will come in.”

It was winding down to the final Quidditch match. Wood was discussing the tactics the team would need to finally defeat Slytherin and claim the Quidditch Cup for the first time in seven years. Harriet, as Seeker, would need to catch the Snitch before Malfoy to earn the team a guaranteed one hundred fifty points.

However, there was considerable pressure on the rest of the team as well. To beat Slytherin, their chasers would have to score sixty points more than the Slytherins. Having seen Slytherin in action on their _Nimbus Two Thousand One_ racing brooms, Harriet knew this was going to be difficult. However, since Harriet had managed to get her focus back in practice, and progress back to where she had been in Patronus lessons, Harriet was more confident that the team could pull this off. She knew she could beat Malfoy to the Snitch in any case.

In the meantime, the coming match marked an increase in the level of animosity between Slytherin and Gryffindor, the likes of which Harriet had never seen. She even overheard a few of the older students discussing how they had never seen things this bad before either. Neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin students could get near each other in the halls without attempts to trip each other in passing or the occasional jinx or hex flying.

Classes which Gryffindors and Slytherins shared, such as Harriet’s Potions and Care of Magical Creatures classes, were downright unpleasant. Several times potions exploded at the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables from students throwing things into other students’ cauldrons when they weren’t looking. In Care of Magical Creatures, several times Harriet and her friends ended up having to help Erica chase down rogue magical creatures that Slytherins would startle or hit with stinging hexes to make them run off.

The worst of it, however, happened two days before the match. They were leaving Potions, and the moment they were out of earshot of Professor Snape’s classroom, Blaise Zabini hit Neville’s robes with a jinx that caused them to shoot up, covering his head. Neville tripped in his attempt to extricate himself and fell face first on the floor. At once there was a standoff. The Gryffindors that weren’t helping Neville rounded on the Slytherins, most of whom drew their own wands to ward off a counter-attack. Aurochius meanwhile was standing between the groups, holding his hands out to both parties, trying to talk sense in to both.

Harriet, who was helping Basheera, Tori, and Parvati with Neville’s bloody nose, didn’t see what happened. There was a flash of light and a cry of pain. Harriet knew at once who the cry belonged to: Kieran.

She spun around just in time to see all hell break loose. Jinxes and hexes flew everywhere. Tapestries flew off the walls and suits of armour crumpled, clanging loudly as they fell.

“ENOUGH!”

The voice was so booming Harriet felt it in the floor. It was so angry it sounded more like the roaring bark of a great dog than a shout. The fight ended at once and all of the students turned. Harriet had expected it to be Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore, but it wasn’t. Professor Stratton was standing in the door way to the corridor and his eyes were burning.

He began striding towards the students, his great arms swinging determinedly as he bore down on them. Despite not even having taken part in the fight, Professor Stratton’s rage made Harriet feel very, very small, in a way not even Professor McGonagall had ever made her feel. Harriet heard a low grunt and turned to see Aurochius getting to his feet. By the looks of it, during the exchange he had dropped down between Harriet and the Slytherins to block her from any incoming spells. In spite of all that had happened, Harriet was touched.

Aurochius panted a bit and winced as if shrugging something off. Harriet supposed he must have been hit by at least a few of the jinxes. They may not have had any visual effects on him, unlike Seamus who was breaking out in hives. Harriet supposed that Aurochius must have had strong resistance to magic, but he had obviously felt the spells all the same. She would have to ask him or Atsuko about it.

“Thank you my friend,” Aurochius said holding out a hand to Professor Stratton.

Professor Stratton shook but his eyes continued to sweep over the guilty faces. Just then another voice came from the other end of the corridor.

“What’s going on here?” Professor Snape’s voice called.

Professor Snape was coming towards them, his black robes billowing and bat-like as he approached. He paused however as Professor Stratton turned to face him.

“Ahh, Professor Stratton. You have things well in hand here I see,” Professor Snape said. His face was even more stiff than usual as he looked up at the much taller professor.

“Yes, indeed so, Professor Snape,” Professor Stratton said simply.

Professor Snape nodded and moved swiftly back down the corridor. At that moment, Harriet remembered the feast after the Sorting Ceremony, when Professor Stratton had been introduced. Professor Snape had seemed leery of Professor Stratton then as well.

“What. Happened?” Professor Stratton said, cutting off his words sharply.

Immediately, students broke out into explanations. Professor Stratton raised a hand in the air and silence fell again at once. He looked around at the horde of jinxed students and shook his head.

“Never mind, I’ll sort it out later. First, let’s get you all to the hospital wing, come on now.”

Harriet spotted Kieran, clutching his bad leg and groaning. Jackson was trying to help him up. Harriet started to hurry over when to her surprise, Damien Mallory and Thomas Wright came over too. By the looks on their faces, Harriet was sure they were trying to help, but Dean Thomas, who had been helping an itching Seamus back to his feet, stepped in between them and Kieran.

“Stay away from him, your lot started this,” Dean snapped.

Damien and Thomas glared and were about to respond when Professor Stratton snapped at them.

“That’s enough. Thomas, help Finnigan. Wright, you help Lee and O’Brien.”

Professor Stratton looked around the rest of the group. “Those of you who aren’t hurt, get on to your classes. Those helping the casualties follow me.”

Ronnie was helping Marcus who had been hit by the _Tarantallegra_ charm and could barely keep his balance as he danced about involuntarily. Professor Stratton drew his long wand and in one motion jabbed it at Marcus’ legs, said “ _Finite_ ,” and re-pocketed the wand. Marcus’ legs quit dancing at once and he groaned in relief.

“Thanks, sir,” he said and Professor Stratton gave him a little nod and his scowl finally broke.

He led the affected towards the hospital wing. Everyone hung back from him. This was mostly due to the number of injured, like Kieran, but really Harriet got the impression that most were nervous of making Professor Stratton angry again. In spite of it all, Harriet couldn’t help but give a vindictive smirk at the sight of Parkinson and Fanfarró. Pansy was wailing with leeks sprouting from her ears, while Pixie was hopping from foot to foot, yelping with pain, clearly a victim of a toe-biter jinx.

As they went, most students were muttering. Damien Mallory was chastising Crabbe, who had apparently cast the charm that injured Kieran and now was helping Goyle whose ears had been expanded to the size of dinner plates.

“Shove off, Mallory,” Blaise Zabini snapped, shoving Damien’s shoulder.

Damien glared back. “If he’s a bullying jerk, I’m gonna call him a bullying jerk. And besides, you can get stuffed too, I heard you tell him to do it.”

Zabini’s glare turned into a smirk. “You know, Mallory, you should watch that mouth. I hear Solomon Kinney’s for hire… never know when better off people with a grudge might need unnecessary people removed…”

Damien scowled as Zabini’s smirk grew. “And your family in particular can’t afford to lose any more family members either, can it?”

Damien froze.

“Ten points from Slytherin, Zabini,” Professor Stratton said from the front of the crowd.

Zabini blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Professor Stratton said. “Veiled threats are still threats.”

Zabini scowled and spent the rest of the trip to the hospital wing in silence. Harriet looked at Damien. He still seemed rattled from Zabini’s taunt, but gave a little half-smile and kept walking.

Once in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey and Miss Momori were fluttering around like very aggravated butterflies as they attempted to undo all the jinxes and hexes and put proper ointments and potions on the injuries. Marcus and Thomas were helping Kieran into his hospital wing gown and bed. Harriet distracted herself by looking around the room. It was then she realized just why Madam Pomfrey and Miss Momori looked so flustered.

They were not the only group in the room. There was a big group of second years there as well, mostly Gryffindors and Slytherins but there was also a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who were most likely by-standers caught in the crossfire. Ginny hurried over with some fellow second years. Harriet recognized Luna Lovegood, who was surveying the scene with complete detachment, Katy Tyler of Gryffindor, and another younger Ravenclaw who Harriet didn’t recognize.

“What happened to you guys?” Ginny asked.

“Brawl in the Potions corridor,” Marcus replied. “You?”

“Brawl in the Charms corridor,” Katy replied. She had a smug smile on her face.

“What are you smiling about?” Dora asked.

Katy grinned. “Hit Wendy Aarons with the twitchy-ears hex.”

“Nice one,” Ronnie said, nodding in approval.

Harriet turned as two more figures approached. It was Cian Whelan and Ardghal Coghlan, two Slytherin second-years who Harriet remembered helping Kieran after the duelling club incident during her second year.

“Is Kieran alright?” Cian asked.

“Yeah, I’m well enough,” Kieran said through the curtain.

Ginny and Katy were both giving the Slytherin boys scathing looks. “Lemme guess, someone in _your_ house hurt his leg?” Ginny asked, crossing her arms.

Cian looked wounded.

“Hey, not all of us are like that, we helped Kieran last year when he got hurt,” Ardghal retorted.

“Yeah, they did Gin,” said the Ravenclaw girl Harriet didn’t recognize. “And they tried to talk down the other Slytherins, remember?”

“Thanks Addie,” Ardghal said, smiling.

The young Ravenclaw flushed but smiled back.

“And hey, my sister’s a Slytherin,” Katy said.

“Yes,” Luna said.

Harriet jumped, she’d forgotten that Luna was there.

“They are not always very nice, but that does not mean all of them are mean,” Luna finished.

Ginny’s freckles became a bit less distinct as her cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” she said quietly to Cian who smiled.

He was about to reply when Madam Pomfrey swooped down on them. “Alright, everyone not jinxed, hexed, or otherwise injured, out at once. We need to tend to the afflicted and we can barely move. Get along now!”

“We’ll check on you later, Kieran,” Hermione called as Madam Pomfrey shooed them out.

“See you then,” Kieran called.

The door slammed shut loudly behind the evicted students. There was a moment of awkward silence before the angrier Gryffindor and Slytherin students stormed off towards their respective common rooms.

“Well, thanks for helping with Kieran,” Marcus said, shaking Thomas Mallory’s hand.

Thomas smiled. “No worries,” he replied.

“And sorry about Dean, he’s…” Harriet said to Damien, her voice trailing off, wondering just how much she should really apologize in Dean’s favour.

Damien shrugged. “I don’t mind him so much… just sick of everyone typecasting everyone else…” he looked at Dora. “Wish more were in our house were like you.”

Dora grinned and gave her hair a toss. “I just don’t have a reason to care. My family’s wealthier than all of the oldest families in our house, and just as pure in blood. I can be whoever I wanna be and they can’t say anything without having to look in a mirror.”

Damien actually laughed. “I uh, I guess that’s true,” he said before walking off after the other retreating Slytherins. Thomas gave them a nod before turning and following his friend.

“Well, it’ll all be over after Saturday,” Hermione said hopefully.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. She grimaced as her nervousness over the match began to well back up inside her.

### * * * *

The Great Hall was bursting with news the following morning. From what Dora told them, a fight had broken out in the Slytherin common room that night. Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle had been bullying Damien more when Dora and her friends, with Cian and Ardghal had stepped in.

Marcus whistled, impressed. “Wow, I bet Snape was furious.”

“Livid,” Dora replied, grinning.

“Wait, there’s something odd about that,” Scott said. “Zabini with Crabbe and Goyle? What about Malfoy?”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” Hermione agreed “and you know, I don’t remember him being at the fight in the Potions corridor yesterday, either.”

“Yeah…” Harriet said, screwing up her face trying to remember. “He wasn’t there, was he? But he was in class…”

“You know, I didn’t see him in the fight in the common room either,” Dora said.

“He’s been really weird this year,” Atsuko chimed in.

“Yeah,” Tomomi added. “Usually he’s all bluster and throwing his weight around, but this year he’s gotten really withdrawn and doesn’t hang with his usual crowd so much…”

“Well, everyone has rough patches,” Jackson Lee said.

“You’re not defending him, are you?” Marcus said raising an eyebrow.

“Hell no,” Jackson said. “Just saying, maybe there’s home issues.”

“That’s possible, his dad is really hard on him, I know,” Harriet said, remembering the incident in Borgin and Burke’s during their visit to Hogsmeade before second year. “Maybe the issue’s with the Buckbeak case? But why? He hates Hagrid.”

“You got me,” Dora said.

“Maybe we could ask Katy?” Ronnie suggested. “She’s Kenley’s little sister, after all.”

“That’s a good idea, Ronnie,” Hermione said. Ronnie smiled.

Unfortunately, their busy class schedule prevented them from checking on Kieran until that evening. When they arrived, Kieran was arguing with Madam Pomfrey.

“We need to do more observation, O’Brien,” she said sternly as Harriet and her friends approached.

“It feels fine,” Kieran said. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, honest.”

“Of course it doesn’t, O’Brien, that’s because of the treatment we’re giving you,” Madam Pomfrey retorted.

“But I can’t miss the match tomorrow morning,” Kieran pleaded.

Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms considering him. “Very well, we will give you one more check-up and if Miss Momori says you’re alright, you can go.”

Madam Pomfrey bustled off and Kieran smiled over at them.

“Hey you,” Dora said taking a seat next to Kieran’s bed.

“Hey guys,” Kieran replied smiling around at them all.

“Doing okay then?” Scott asked.

“Oh yeah,” Kieran said waving a hand dismissively.

Harriet looked around at the hospital wing. Nearly all the beds were full, and mostly with Slytherins. She recognized Ardghal and Cian, both of whom looked to have wound up on the receiving end of some bad jinxes. Most of them had visitors, like Damien and Thomas who were sitting with the younger Slytherin boys. It was then that something struck Harriet. At the very end bed, all alone, looking on at the other students and their visitors with undisguised jealousy, was Wendy Aarons.

“Yeah, she got hit bad after taking a jinx for Pansy,” Dora said, noticing Harriet looking.

“She and Pixie seem so grateful, don’t they?” Marcus muttered.

“Maybe they came and visited earlier in the day?” Scott said. He flushed as everyone gave him sceptical looks. “Not defending them, just, you know, I guess a benefit of the doubt…”

“A benefit of the doubt for Pansy and Pixie?” Ronnie said scathingly.

“Judging by the look on Wendy’s face, I don’t think so,” Hermione said. There was a distinct note of sympathy in Hermione’s voice that for once, Harriet agreed with.

“Well you can doubt, because you’re right, they haven’t,” Kieran said.

“Alright, O’Brien, let’s have a look,” Miss Momori said stepping over with her ever-present clipboard.

Kieran nodded and sat up straighter in the bed, pulling back the covers and revealing his leg. Harriet just barely kept herself from gasping out loud, while Ronnie failed entirely. For the first time ever, Harriet saw Kieran’s knee. It wasn’t a short, zagging lightning bolt like on her forehead. It was a jagged black line, running across his knee from front to back. The rest of his knee, up to a few inches up his thigh and down his calf, was a pale, sickly yellow.

Kieran flushed as he saw the looks on everyone’s faces.

“It-it’s not usually this bad,” he said sheepishly. “It’s usually just the black scar,” he said, as though that made it all better.

“Well, the swelling has gone down considerably,” Miss Momori said, inspecting it. “But I still don’t like that colour. I’m sorry, O’Brien, I can’t let you go like this.”

“B-but Miss, it’s the final match,” Kieran said pleading. “Harriet’s going to win the Cup back for Gryffindor for the first time in seven years!”

Harriet flushed brightly at Kieran’s confidence in her skill.

Miss Momori gave him a searching look. “The match is at eleven, O’Brien. One more night for observation. At this rate I’m sure by tomorrow morning you will be well enough to go to the match. Is that acceptable?”

Kieran nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it.

“Well we’ll stay with you a bit longer until curfew and help you with your homework,” Hermione said in a cheerful tone.

Kieran smiled and finally looked cheered.

Later that night, after returning to the Gryffindor common room, the tension over the match was palpable. Fred and George were up to their usual antics, though they seemed to be putting more effort into noisemaking than usual, which Harriet took as a sign they were trying to cover for their own nerves. Oliver was deeply engrossed in his model Quidditch pitch, while Angelina, Katie, Alicia, and Erica were laughing at Fred and George’s jokes. Not even Hermione could bring herself to study, such was the anxiety over Gryffindor’s chance to reclaim the Quidditch Cup once more.

Eventually Angelina broke off from Fred and George’s antics and made her way over to Harriet. “Doin’ alright, Potter?” she asked.

“Yeah, okay,” Harriet said.

“How’s your friend, O’Brien?”

“He’s okay, he should be well enough to come to the match tomorrow,” Harriet said.

Angelina laughed. “I’d like to see them try and keep him there,” she said.

“What?” Harriet asked, taken aback.

Angelina rolled her eyes. “Well he follows you everywhere like a lost puppy, I’m sure he’ll find some way to sneak out.”

“Kieran? He’s not exactly the sneakiest,” Ronnie said, having overheard.

“Eh, you’d be surprised,” Harriet said remembering the previous summer. “I mean, he’s no Scott but he can get around the woods.”

“No Scott, eh?” Angelina asked with a strangely sing-song tone.

Harriet blinked. “What?”

Angelina just smiled enigmatically. “Well, I’ll turn in, you better get to bed soon too, Potter. If I see a single bag under your eyes tomorrow morning because you didn’t get enough sleep I’ll pummel you, got it?”

Harriet rolled her eyes but smiled. “Got it.”

“Good,” Angelina said smiling.

Harriet bid her friends goodnight and followed Angelina up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. She changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Unfortunately, her sleep was far from restful. She had several bad dreams. The least panicky was one in which she overslept for the match so Neville took her place as Seeker.

The darkest was one where Professor Snape had pulled strings and instead of _Nimbus Two-Thousand Ones_ the Slytherins were all flying on miniature dragons, all copies of Hagrid’s vicious dragon, Norbert. Harriet had just managed to outmanoeuvre Malfoy’s dragon when she realized she forgot her _Firebolt_ and fell plummeting to the ground. As she fell, her skin chilled, her mind fogged, and she saw the ground looming towards her turn into hundreds of grasping, scabbed, and rotted hands.

Harriet sat bolt upright at the end of that nightmare. She was panting heavily and it took her a moment to remind herself that there was no way the dream could have happened, and that instead she was still safe in bed. She put on her glasses and poured herself a glass of water from the enchanted silver jug under the window. The clock on her bedside stand said it was just after three in the morning. The cold water hit Harriet like a small shock, but she appreciated it. It cleared the cobwebs from her mind and she felt her anxieties from her nightmares drain away.

She looked out on the grounds. The skies were clear and the moon was still high enough to light up the grounds. She could see Epeius curled up near Hagrid’s cabin. She assumed he was sleeping, but his tail was flicking. He was very peaceful to watch from way up here; serene and quiet.

Just then, Epeius’ head lifted and he looked across the grounds. Harriet scanned the grounds and saw what must have woken him. A squat form was moving across the lawn, heading towards the Forbidden Forest. Harriet squinted and recognized the tall, bottle-brush tail of Crookshanks.

She watched him moving towards the forest when once again she was distracted by Epeius. The horse scrambled to his feet, his tail swishing even more rapidly than before. Harriet turned her attention back to Crookshanks. He’d reached the edge of the forest now and what’s more, he was no longer alone. Something else was moving just inside the edge of the trees. She leaned out for a better look. Finally, the entity moving in the forest emerged.

It was a massive, shaggy, black dog. Even at this distance, Harriet immediately thought of the Gurt dog she saw the night she left the Dursleys. It looked to be about the same size and shape. It trotted over to Crookshanks and lowered its head, its tail wagging. Something about the sight made Harriet feel a swell of relief inside her. If Gurt dogs were good signs, then surely seeing one before such an important match was a positive thing

Just then, Harriet remembered something she’d long forgotten. The very first Quidditch match of the school year she had seen a big black dog in the stands, sitting with a small cloaked figure. She then connected in her mind the drawing Emma’s drawing of Snuffles. The realization hit Harriet’s mind like a lightning bolt. It must have been Emma sitting in the stands with the dog at the match. If it was a Gurt dog, perhaps it had come to Hogwarts sensing the dangers from the myriad of threats against the school. Between the Dementors, Sirius Black, and Solomon Kinney, Harriet supposed Hogwarts was in as much danger as it had ever been. That realization in particular made Harriet feel a strong twinge of guilt over her last unauthorized excursion into Hogsmeade.

The guilt passed quickly and Harriet smiled once more. She wondered if the Gurt dog had sensed Emma’s quiet nature and so was looking out for her more. Either way, Harriet supposed for now she would keep Emma’s secret.

Then, it happened. Just as Crookshanks and the dog were starting to head back to the forest, Epeius gave a whinny. She looked back just in time to see the horse vanish in a blur across the grounds and out of sight. She turned back to the dog and cat and saw both vanishing into the shadows of the castle. She blinked in surprise. What could have frightened a dog that large?

Then, she saw it.

Another massive form was skulking along the edge of the trees. It was moving so smoothly that it seemed to be floating parallel to the ground. Finally it came out into the grounds too. Harriet gasped. There, where the dog and Crookshanks had been standing was the unmistakable form of a jet black, monstrous cat.


	23. Match and Missing

“There are few surer signs that someone is in great emotional trouble as when they begin to give over to apathy. When they are finally so overwhelmed by life’s troubles, or a massive shock, they fail to be able to register any emotion at all.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

     

“Goodness, you’re being affectionate this morning,” came Hermione’s voice from beyond the bed curtains.

It was two hours until the match according to Harriet’s clock. Harriet had managed to drift back into a fitful sleep the rest of the night, but she did not feel tired. Indeed, she still felt quite on edge after the strange incident she had seen out the window. The only way she managed to fall asleep was reminding herself that the Forbidden Forest was full of big, dangerous animals. Wasn’t that why it was forbidden in the first place? And the big cat, which Harriet now took to be a panther, certainly wasn’t as terrifying as Aragog and his horde had been.

“Ugh, and shedding…”

Harriet pulled back her bed curtains. Hermione was sitting on the edge of her own bed, holding Crookshanks on her lap. The sight of the large, fluffy feline filled Harriet with relief. Crookshanks was nuzzling Hermione’s cheeks while Hermione was grumbling trying to blow a large tuft of ginger fur off her hand.

Crookshanks continued to purr. Harriet couldn’t be sure, but something about the way the cat was acting seemed like relief, as if Crookshanks knew how close to danger he’d been and was just as grateful to see Hermione again as Harriet was to see him. Harriet then remembered Scott’s assessment that Crookshanks was probably part-Kneazle. She supposed this behaviour would be further evidence of Scott’s hypothesis.

Harriet took her _Firebolt_ from her trunk and headed down to the common room with Ronnie and Hermione. It seemed as though most of the house was already awake and waiting. The excitement in the room seemed to make Harriet’s skin tingle, as if the air was electrified. Harriet turned to the fireplace as she heard Percy’s voice call above the din. She saw him standing there with Wood and AJ’s older brother, Ben.

“Okay everyone, we’re going down to breakfast as a whole house.”

“We might have Aurochius with us as we head down,” Wood said as the crowd of Gryffindors gathered, “but we’d rather not to take chances, and there’s safety in numbers.”

“Right,” Percy agreed. “So come on everyone, time for breakfast!”

“What about Kieran?” Harriet asked, looking to Hermione and Ronnie. “We can’t let him leave the hospital wing all by himself.”

“Well, let’s see if Aurochius will take us?” Ronnie suggested as Marcus came over.

“You lot talking about Kieran?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet said, adjusting her _Firebolt_ on her shoulder.

“I hope Miss Momori lets him go,” Marcus said. “He’ll be devastated.”

Harriet shifted uncomfortably, remembering Angelina’s words from the night before.

“Well, we’ll pout Aurochius into letting us go,” Ronnie said.

“‘Pout’ him?” Marcus asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, works on Dad all the time,” Ronnie said matter-of-factly.

Marcus scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Ronnie sniffed and tossed her hair before turning to Seamus Finnigan. “Seamus? My bag’s kinda heavy, would you mind holding it for me?” she asked giving him a very convincing pout.

“Oh, uh, s-sure, no problem,” Seamus said, reaching for the bag enthusiastically before blinking. “Wait… you don’t have a bag.”

Ronnie’s pout vanished in an instant and was replaced by a very smug grin indeed. “Nope, but you _did_ help me prove a point, so thank you!” she said smiling.

Seamus blinked looking confused but didn’t get time to respond before the line for the portrait hole had moved enough that they could start forward.

“Okay that was good,” Marcus admitted, making Ronnie’s smug grin widen.

They made their way, as a house, to the Great Hall. Harriet wanted to break off for the Hospital Wing but Marcus assured her that Madam Pomfrey was unlikely to let Kieran go until the very last minute. Harriet sighed and agreed as they entered the Great Hall.

A wave of sound hit them as everyone at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables rose to applaud the entering Gryffindors. The other houses were so eager to see Slytherin finally fall that they were cheering the Gryffindors as though they were all in the same house.

“Nice to see a little school unity,” Hermione said before glancing at the Slytherin table. “Though not exactly perfect, is it?”

“Who cares?” Ronnie said, as the Slytherins made their presence known by booing and hissing.

Harriet managed to catch sight of Malfoy. He was sitting next to Flint, who was talking to him in a hushed voice. Malfoy’s eyes were on Harriet’s _Firebolt_ , his skin the colour of porridge. Further down the table, Harriet saw Kenley stabbing at her eggs with her fork a bit more maliciously than required. Kenley glanced up and caught Harriet looking at her. She gave Harriet a little smile and wave before returning to eating her breakfast with a bit more decorum.

As was the custom before Quidditch matches, Harriet sat with the team. Wood made sure that everyone ate, though Harriet noted he wasn’t eating anything himself. Harriet was only halfway through her own breakfast when Professor McGonagall came hurrying over to her. Harriet looked up at Professor McGonagall with trepidation. Most times Professor McGonagall had wanted to speak to her personally this year, it had been to convey bad news. However, this time Professor McGonagall was actually smiling.

“Potter, there’s a surprise for you and your friends in the Entrance Hall,” Professor McGonagall said, smiling enigmatically.

“What is it?” Harriet asked.

“Did I not say, a ‘surprise,’ Potter?” Professor McGonagall replied, curtly, before looking down the table. “Granger, Weasley, McIntyre, Van Der Lakk, Flamel, you come along as well.”

Harriet and her friends rose. Harriet hoisted up her _Firebolt_ once more and they headed off after Professor McGonagall.

“Make sure you’re on the pitch by 10:30, Potter,” Wood called after her.

Harriet waved her acknowledgment as they followed Professor McGonagall, ignoring the jeers of the Slytherins. However, as they passed the Ravenclaw table a cheerful voice called her name.

“Hey, Harriet, good luck!” Harriet paused and saw that it was Cho Chang who was smiling at Harriet warmly. Harriet flushed but smiled back.

“Thanks Cho,” she replied.                                    

“Yeah, show the boys how it’s done!” another of Cho’s friends said.

Harriet flushed brighter but nodded, feeling even more confident than ever. Cho was a worthy opponent as a Seeker, and somehow knowing that Cho was willing to put that aside to support her touched Harriet.

She hurried after her friends into the Entrance Hall. There, Harriet saw something that made her heart jump in a very good way. There, talking to Aurochius, was Kieran’s parents. But they weren’t alone. They were also talking to Professor Lupin, Mr Dusk, and Professor Sinistra, who was joined by her twin daughters, Nanette and Rosie, who still attended Rathlin. There was also a third girl who looked to be the same age as the twins who Harriet did not recognize.

“Ah, there she be,” Mrs O’Brien said, waving to Harriet.

Harriet beamed and hurried over, giving Mrs O’Brien a big hug, feeling lighter than she’d felt in months.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked, smiling too.

“Well, we’re alumni are we not?” Mr O’Brien chuckled. “Can’t pass up the chance to see Gryffindor take back the Quidditch cup after so long, can we?”

“Plus we’re checking on Kieran, but don’t tell him that,” Mrs O’Brien added, winking.

“And in the meantime catching up with familiar faces,” Mr O’Brien said smiling at Professor Lupin, Mr Dusk and Aurochius.

Professor Lupin chuckled in his good natured way. “Well, it is a small magical world we live in, is it not?”

Harriet beamed and introduced Mr and Mrs O’Brien to her other friends. Mrs O’Brien then introduced them to the girl Harriet didn’t recognize.

“And this here’s my niece, Niamh*,” she said.

Niamh beamed at them all. “Hello! I’m Niamh, Niamh Droobles!”

“Droobles?” Ronnie asked. “As in the gum?”

“Yep!” Niamh replied eagerly.

“Niamh’s my roommate, so I invited her to watch the match with us!” Rosie Sinistra chimed in.

“And it gave us the chance to meet their lovely mother,” Mrs O’Brien said smiling at Professor Sinistra. “We simply must invite you for tea over the summer.”

“That would be marvellous,” Professor Sinistra said smiling.

“Perhaps we can invite Daniel and Remus along too,” Mrs O’Brien said, a twinkle in her eye.

Mr Dusk laughed a bit more heartily than usual. Harriet noticed that while he was standing next to Professor Sinistra, he did not seem as casual as he usually did. He kept running a hand through his hair awkwardly and fussing with his clothes. Nanette, Rosie, and Niamh were giving him and Professor Sinistra very knowing looks and giggling, whispering to each other behind their hands.

However, Harriet noticed something else about Mr Dusk. He looked very tired, with noticeable bags under his eyes. Harriet remembered how Scott had looked after his night of musing over the guilt or innocence of Sirius Black, and realized Mr Dusk looked much the same.

“Well, let’s go spring our surprise, shall we?” Mr O’Brien suggested warmly, calling Harriet’s attention back to the group.

As a group, they made their way to the Hospital Wing. Harriet couldn’t help but smile. Kieran looked at once embarrassed, yet touched and pleased to see his family and younger cousin. They sat with him and chatted until Miss Momori came to give Kieran his last check-up.

While they waited, Harriet glanced around the room. Most of the Slytherins from the fight in their common room had been released it seemed. Wendy Aarons was one of the few who remained. She was still alone, lying on her side. At first Harriet thought she was staring into space, but she realized that she was looking at a single get-well card propped up on her bedside table. Harriet wondered who it was from, as she doubted it was Pansy and Pixie.

“Very well, O’Brien, you’re cleared to go,” Miss Momori said.

“Harriet, aren’t you supposed to head down to the pitch?” Dora asked, looking at her watch.

Harriet checked her own and saw she only had ten minutes. “You’re right!” she gasped. “See you all at the match!” she said and ran for the door.

She ran down to the pitch, Aurochius keeping pace with her easily on his long legs. She came to a stop next to Katie Bell, leaning heavily on the older girl’s shoulder, panting.

“Made it,” Harriet said catching her breath.

“Good, with two minutes to spare,” Wood said. “The wind’s not so bad down here but that’ll be different at altitudes over fifty feet everyone, so watch for it. No clouds and a mid-day sun can impair vision, so keep that in mind too when keeping an eye-out for Bludgers, though that’ll be a plus for you Harriet, as it’ll light up the Snitch better.”

“Well, it’ll light it up better for Malfoy too,” Harriet replied.

“Yeah, but you have the faster broom, so you can keep him off it easier than he can keep you off it once we get sixty points up.”

“You really think we can do that though, Wood?” Alicia Spinnet asked.

“Damn right, I do,” Wood said, his voice brimming with conviction. It was the same fervour and confidence that gave Harriet butterflies in her stomach, as it did now. “A broom’s only as good as its flyer. Our practices over the last couple of weeks have been flawless. The weather’s perfect. We’re going to do it. I don’t care if this match goes on for a month, we’re going to win.”

Wood’s confidence was so strong that even Fred and George seemed unable to come up with their usual sarcastic wise-cracks as they made their way to the changing room. As they changed, Harriet could hear the stands filling up. By the sound of it, the whole school had come to watch the match. Not surprising, Harriet thought. The chance to watch Slytherin fall had the school buzzing.

Finally, they made their way onto the pitch. Harriet’s eyes were hit by a wave of scarlet as both the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws waved pro-Gryffindor signs and flags. However, Slytherin was definitely making their own presence known, waving their own green flags, filling a quarter of the stadium behind the Slytherin goal posts.

“And here come the Gryffindors!” came the voice of Lee Jordan, amplified many times through the magical megaphone from the commentator's box. “Bell, Johnson, Potter, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. This is Wood’s final match and no one can doubt he’s put together the best team Hogwarts has seen in years—”

A wave of boos from the Slytherins drown out the rest of Lee’s comment.

“And here come the Slytherins, led by Captain Flint. Looks like he’s made a few changes in the line-up since the last match, a gutsy move, considering it looks like he’s opted for size rather than skill…”

Another wave of boos rose up from the Slytherin end. Harriet, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy looked only half the size of his other teammates as he stood amongst them, clutching his _Nimbus Two-Thousand One_ and looking as though he felt as jittery as Harriet did. Harriet took a breath and decided that even if she was nervous too, she would use Malfoy’s own nerves to her advantage.

“Captains, shake hands,” Madam Hooch said as the teams came together.

Flint and Wood shook. As usual, it looked as though each were trying to crush the other’s fingers.

“Mount your brooms!” Madam Hooch declared. “On my whistle: three, two, one!”

Harriet heard her whistle only briefly through the roar of the crowd and the rushing of the wind as she kicked off. Her ponytail whipped in her slipstream as the exhilaration of flight finally chased away all the butterflies. She shot higher than everyone, scanning below for the Snitch. She couldn’t catch it yet, but knowing where it was would help her keep Malfoy off of it until necessary.

Harriet glanced back, catching sight of Malfoy tailing her. By the looks of it, he was going to copy Cho’s tactic of tailing Harriet and letting her look for the Snitch. Unfortunately, while still not as fast as Harriet’s _Firebolt_ , Malfoy’s _Nimbus_ was still faster than Cho’s _Comet 260_. Malfoy’s face was set as he followed, and Harriet couldn’t help but give him a quick smirk and lean forward, rocketing away from him. As Harriet slowed down, she could hear Lee Jorden commentating again.

“—Gryffindor is in possession, Alicia Spinnet with the Quaffle, heading straight up the pitch toward the Slytherin—nope, intercepted by Warrington of Slytherin and heading straight back towards the Gryffindor—ooooooooo that looked painful but nice Bludger Fred or George Weasley—don’t look at me like that, you know your own mother can’t tell you apart—Johnson now with the Quaffle heading back to the Slytherin end, dodging Montague with a skill seldom seen— _look out for the Bludger!_ –SCORE! SHE SCORES! GRYFFINDOR LEADS BY TEN TO ZERO!”

Harriet watched as Angelina punched the air and gave George a high five as they passed each other. The crowd below was screaming with delight and waving their scarlet flags in the air when Angelina gave out a shriek and was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint smashed into her.

The crowd gasped and booed angrily.

“Sorry, didn’t see her,” Flint called, though there was undisguised maliciousness in his eyes. This only lasted a second however, as Fred actually hurled his Beater’s club at Flint, hitting him in the back of the head. Flint was knocked forward, smashing his face into the handle of his broom, causing his nose to bleed.

Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded and she flew up between the two as Flint rounded on Fred. “That will do!” she shouted coming between them. “Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their chaser. Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to _their_ chaser!”

“Oh come off, Miss!” Fred protested but Madam Hooch blew her whistle once more and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty shot for Gryffindor.

Silence fell over the crowd and Alicia streaked forward. Harriet watched as she deftly passed the Slytherin keeper and put it neatly through one of the hoops.

“YES! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!” Lee cried out.

Harriet turned to watch Flint come forward to take the Slytherin penalty. She crossed her fingers as she watched Wood tighten his grip on his own broom.

“Of course, Wood is an excellent Keeper, one of the best Hogwarts is seen in years so it’s going to be difficult for—YES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! HE SAVED IT! SCORE REMAINS TWENTY TO ZERO!”

Harriet gave a sigh of relief and resumed her search for the Snitch. She kept listening to Lee, needing to know exactly when they were sixty points ahead. Below her, Malfoy was doing some of his own searching for the Snitch, though he was certainly keeping an eye on Harriet as he hunted.

“Gryffindor in possess—no Slytherin in possession—no! back to Gryffindor as Katie Bell stealing away the Quaffle and my heart—”

“Jordan!” barked Professor McGonagall.

“Just adding human interest,” Lee said. “Katie Bell closing in—that was DELIBERATE!”

One of the Slytherin Chasers, Montague, had dived on Katie and instead of grabbing the Quaffle, had grabbed her head instead, nearly pulling her from her broom. Katie was forced to drop the Quaffle as she cartwheeled in mid-air and grabbed on tight to her broom handle.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle again and began shouting at Montague before awarding Gryffindor another penalty. Like Alicia, Katie was successful in slipping past the Slytherin Keeper.

“THIRTY-ZERO!” Lee shouted. “TAKE THAT YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—”

“Jordan, if you cannot be unbiased I will take over commentary!”

“But they are, Professor!”

Harriet felt a kick in her guts as she finally spotted the Golden Snitch, zipping and zig-zagging around the Gryffindor goal posts. They were only thirty points up now, and if Malfoy saw the Snitch…

Harriet spun her _Firebolt_ around and faked a look of deep concentration as she shot for the Slytherin end instead. Malfoy bought it and gave chase. Harriet heard a whistling sound she recognized instantly as an incoming Bludger and managed to duck just before it hit. By the looks of it, it had been hit by one of the Slytherin Beaters, Derrick. Another Bludger came tearing after her, this one sent by the other Slytherin Beater, Bole. Now, the two were bearing down on her, their clubs raised.

Harriet rolled and dived at the last second and Derrick and Bole both gave out cries of pain as they collided hard.

“HAHA!” Lee taunted as the two lurched away from each other, rubbing their heads and diving down to pick up their Beaters’ bats, as both had dropped them in the collision. “Nice try boys, Potter’s a catch no doubt but you’re gonna have to try harder than that! There’s way more about her than the _Firebolt_ that puts her out of _your_ league!”

Harriet rolled her eyes and resumed her circling of the pitch.

“Gryffindor back in possession, Angelina Johnson with the Quaffle, Flint pulling up alongside her, poke him in the eye, Angelina!—a joke, Professor, it was a joke—oh no! Flint in possession! Flying toward the Gryffindor goal post! Come on Wood, you can—”

Flint scored. Cheers rang up from the Slytherin end matched by boos from the rest of the crowd. Lee swore loudly and Professor McGonagall tried to yank the magical megaphone away from him. “Sorry, Professor, it won’t happen again. Gryffindor back in possession, still in the lead, thirty points to ten.”

It was easily the dirtiest match Harriet had ever seen. The Slytherins were going to any length to get the Quaffle after Gryffindor’s early lead. Bole hit Alicia with his Beater’s club and tried to say he thought she was a Bludger. George elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties and Wood managed another amazing save while Angelina took the Gryffindor penalty and scored, making the score forty points to ten.

Shortly thereafter, Katie Bell scored once more, taking the score to fifty-ten. Fred and George flew either side of her with their clubs raised, ready to fend off any retaliation. Instead, the Slytherin Beaters hit the Bludgers at Wood who wasn’t expecting it and they hit him one after the other in his stomach. He doubled over and flipped, hanging upside down from his broom as he clutched his stomach, trying to catch his breath. Harriet flew down to him as Madam Hooch’s whistle blew and she began shrieking at the Slytherin Beaters.

“You alright?” Harriet asked as Wood returned to an upright position on his broom.

“Fine,” Wood grunted before giving her a stern look. “What are you doing? Get back out there and look for the Snitch. Don’t worry about me.”

Harriet flushed. Yet, she did not know what inspired her to do it, a surge of emotion welled up inside Harriet and she snapped back. “I’ve got to worry about you, if you can’t block Quaffle’s we’ll never get to sixty points up! Plus it’s time out for penalty anyway!”

Wood looked dumbstruck for a moment. Harriet expected him to get angry with her but then unexpectedly he grinned. “You know Potter, you’ll make a great Captain someday, just like your dad. Now get back up there. Go!”

Harriet nodded and climbed once more above the pitch. She heard rather than saw Angelina successfully score, making the match sixty to ten. Only moments later after play had resumed, Fred managed to hit Warrington with a Bludger and knock the Quaffle from his hands, which Alicia caught and scored, taking their lead to seventy-ten.

The crowd was screaming louder than ever. Harriet could feel every eye on her now. They were sixty points in the lead, which meant that if Harriet caught the Snitch now, they would win the match and the Cup. This was not lost on Malfoy, who was tailing her closer than ever.

Then, she saw it. There was the Snitch, some twenty feet above her, glinting brightly in the mid-day sun. Harriet leaned forward, urging her broom upwards, her hand reaching out when the unthinkable started to happen. Her _Firebolt_ was slowing down.

Harriet looked at her broom in shock and then behind her. Malfoy had thrown himself forward on his broom, managed to catch hold of Harriet’s broom’s tail, and was pulling her back.

“Why you—!” Harriet shouted.

She tried to give her _Firebolt_ a shake to throw Malfoy off but he clung on. She expected to see him sneering but was again surprised. His eyes were closed, his face set in concentration, as if waiting for lightning to strike him.

“PENALTY!” Madam Hooch cried out, “Penalty to Gryffindor! I have never in all my years seen such tactics!”

Malfoy finally let go of Harriet’s broom and slid back onto his own. He’d opened his eyes and was just staring blankly as Madam Hooch shouted at him. He didn’t even react as Marcus Flint flew up beside him after Madam Hooch flew down to oversee the next Gryffindor penalty shot and patted Malfoy on the back, beaming at him proudly. Harriet couldn’t believe it. Was Malfoy… ashamed?

“YOU CHEATING SCUM!” Lee Jordan was shouting down below, calling Harriet’s attention back to the game. “You filthy, cheating bastards!”

Professor McGonagall didn’t even try to tell him off. In fact, she too was on her feet, shaking her fist in Malfoy’s direction, shouting furiously. Alicia took the penalty, but was so angry over Malfoy’s foul that she missed by several feet. The Slytherins’ ploy was working, the fouls were wearing down the Gryffindors’ concentration.

“Slytherin in possession, heading for goal—Montague scores,” Lee groaned dismally. “Seventy to twenty; Gryffindor.”

Harriet kept listening as she kept as close to Malfoy as possible. She was not going to let him anywhere near the Snitch if she could help it.

“Get off, Potter!” Malfoy grunted as Harriet blocked him trying to make another turn.

“Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle now and races for goal, come on, Angelina, come on! Oh no, look out!”

Harriet looked back. Every member of the Slytherin team but Malfoy, even their Keeper, was zooming down on Angelina to block her. Harriet reacted instantly. She flattened herself to her broom handle and rocketed towards the Slytherins as fast as she could. She gave a battle cry as she bore down on them and the Slytherins panicked and scattered, leaving the path wide open for Angelina who scored easily. Eighty points two twenty.

Harriet’s momentum carried her far, just managing to pull up in time to skim the grass with the tips of her shoes as she climbed skywards once more. Then, Harriet saw something that made her heart freeze. Malfoy was diving, a look of manic concentration on his face. There, just above the grass at the other end of the pitch, was the Golden Snitch.

Harriet flattened herself to her broom once more but Malfoy was so far ahead. Harriet was panicking. It was going to be the match against Hufflepuff all over again.

A Bludger hit by one of the Slytherin Beaters barely nicked her elbow but she kept going. The Snitch was skirting the edge of the stands, curving around giving Harriet a bit of a reprieve on distance as Malfoy slowed down to keep pace. Harriet was gaining now, fast. She reached Malfoy’s ankles, then was level with him. He gave her one glare, the hints of the old rivalry finally returning as he leaned forward, trying to urge his broomstick faster but it was no use. Harriet edged ahead of him and Malfoy reached out, his fingers inches away from the Snitch but Harriet threw herself forward, taking both hands off her broom and snatching it from him.

“NO!” Malfoy cried.

“YES!” Harriet shouted as she pulled back, holding her fist high in the air, the buzzing wings of the Snitch beating against her hand as her team sped towards her. Wood reached her first, blinded by tears he yanked Harriet almost off her broom into a tight bear hug, sobbing without restraint into her shoulder. Fred and George reached her next, followed by Angelina, Alicia and Katie. The team became a single, jumbled hug as they floated back to the ground.

The crowd cheered and roared in delight and all of Gryffindor house vaulted the barriers and rushed onto the pitch. There was a rain of hands coming down, patting them all on their backs and shoulders. Fred and George lifted Harriet up on their shoulders, holding her up over the crowd. From her new perspective she saw Hagrid waving at her. He had been plastered all over with scarlet rosettes by enthusiastic Gryffindor fans.

“Yeh beat ‘em, Harriet! Yeh beat ‘em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!”

Percy was leaping up and down, waving his arms in the air like a maniac. He embraced his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, tight as she caught up with him and kissed her long and hard. There was Professor McGonagall as well, sobbing harder than Wood and wiping her eyes with the corner of a Gryffindor flag.

Finally, Harriet’s friends managed to make their way up to her. They had probably been held up by Kieran’s leg, but the looks on their faces were more than enough. They were positively beaming as Fred and George carried her toward the stands where Professor Dumbledore was waiting with the Quidditch Cup. She saw Mr and Mrs O’Brien, still with Mr Dusk and Professor Lupin, cheering her and the team, beaming at her.

Wood was still sobbing as he took the Quidditch Cup and embraced it as a lover. Then, he smiled up at Harriet and held the Cup up to her. It was heavy but Harriet didn’t care as she hoisted it up for everyone to see. Fred and George lowered her down and the crowd began to make its way towards the school. Harriet could only imagine the size of the party Fred and George must have planned.

“Why don’t you just do it already?” Harriet heard Fred ask George as she was buffeted along with them in the wave of cheering students.

“I could but the moment’s passing, I’d just seem like a prat now,” George said back.

“Why does there have to be a right time?” Fred retorted.

“Hey, pot-kettle there, bro,” George grumbled.

Harriet wanted to turn around and ask them what they were talking about but she was again distracted. They were exiting the stadium and heading towards the school when Harriet caught sight of Draco Malfoy walking off alone. Something made him stop and Harriet saw Kenley walking up to him. He didn’t look at her, just stood as she stomped up, clearly upset. She was waving her hands animatedly. As with Madam Hooch and Flint, Malfoy gave no response. It was as if he’d shut down completely, unable to respond in any way. He turned and walked away, still not saying a thing.

“That’s our girl!” came a voice from behind Harriet, calling her attention.

It was Mr Dusk along with Harriet’s friends and Mr and Mrs O’Brien. Mr Dusk jogged forward, laughing joyfully and caught Harriet under her arms, lifting her in the air and spinning around. Harriet gave a shriek ofsurprise but laughed. Harriet felt something strange and new deep inside her as she looked down at the beaming pride in Mr Dusk’s eyes.

“That was amazing; bloody amazing flying,” he said exuberantly. “You’re your father’s daughter, Harriet! The way you dive bombed the other team to clear the goal for your chaser and still caught the Snitch. Your father couldn’t have done it!”

Harriet felt her face flush and on instinct she wrapped her arms around his neck hugging him tight. Mr Dusk hesitated for a moment before he finally hugged her back. Harriet held it for as long as she dared, before she finally let go and Mr Dusk put her back down.

“He’s right, I never saw your father pull off saves like that,” Mr O’Brien said, stepping up beside Daniel and beaming down at Harriet.

“And you two,” Mrs O’Brien said turning to Fred and George. “I see you take the title “Beater” quite literally.”

“Aye, though it was deeply entertaining,” said Mr O’Brien. “Have to say I never thought of throwing the bats…”

Fred and George both bowed, flourishing their hands wildly. Kieran rolled his eyes as he stepped up between his parents.

“Mum, Dad? This is Fred and George Weasley,” Kieran said introducing them.

For some reason, Fred and George both gaped.

“Wait,” Fred said, pointing at Mr O’Brien. “You’re not Sean O’Brien, are you?”

“ _The_ Sean O’Brien,” George said, looking star-struck. “Gryffindor Beater, nineteen-seventy to nineteen seventy-six?”

“And then you’re… Irene Droobles?” Fred asked turning to Mrs O’Brien.

“I was, yes,” Mrs O’Brien replied, eyes twinkling.

“Kieran… why… why did you never tell us?” George asked, gaping in awe at Kieran’s parents. “You two are Hogwarts _legends_.”

“I… hardly ever talk to you two?” Kieran said though Fred and George didn’t seem to notice he’d spoken.

“We have so many questions for you two,” Fred said.

“So many…” George added.

Mr O’Brien laughed. “Well, lucky that it’s time for lunch then. Been a long time since I’ve had a good, square Hogwarts meal.”

### * * * *

If Harriet didn’t know better, she would have said even the weather was celebrating Gryffindor’s victory in the Quidditch Final. The skies were clear and cloudless for almost the entirety of May. Unfortunately, no one had any time to take advantage of it. Final exams were approaching.

The entire school seemed to be suffering from revision fever. Even Fred and George put aside their usual antics and gave in to studying. It was even more critical for them, as they would be taking their Ordinary Wizarding Levels (OWLS), the baseline examinations to determine what Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests (NEWTS)students could take. NEWTs were important in determining careers that students were qualified for after graduation from Hogwarts.

Unfortunately for everyone else who didn’t have to take their OWLs or NEWTs, Percy Weasley did have to take his NEWTs, and presided over the mandatory silence imposed upon the common room with an iron fist, handing out quick punishments to anyone who violated the policy.

The only person who looked worse than Percy, was Hermione. Despite dropping Divination, she was still taking several more classes than anyone else. She spent almost every waking moment in the library. Her hair was getting bushier and wilder than ever, which was saying something. She hardly ever smiled, and snapped angrily if interrupted.

Scott was nearly as bad. Even if he never talked about it, Harriet was sure that he was still carrying on his investigation of Black on top of his own extensive homework and revision. He wasn’t quite as irritable, but he was getting withdrawn to the point he was even talking to Atsuko less and less.

Harriet, meanwhile, now that the Quidditch season was over, had thrown herself headlong into helping Ronnie, Dora, Kieran, and Marcus in looking up material for Hagrid to use for Buckbeak’s appeal. The more and more Harriet looked, the worse and worse she felt about their prospects. She was starting to see why Hagrid had been so distraught at the news the case had gone to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. Harriet was starting to get the impression that any case brought before the Committee was as good as a death sentence.

While Hagrid had been cheered up by the Gryffindor win, and had resumed teaching his classes himself, after a couple weeks the looming appeal was starting to wear on him once more. Erica wasn’t exactly teaching with him anymore, but she was certainly doing the bulk of the work. This made Harriet nervous about Hagrid’s future prospects as a teacher. Erica was only helping teach their Care of Magical Creatures class, so she couldn’t imagine how he was doing in the rest of the classes he taught.

“Hagrid’s doing okay,” Erica reassured them one night in the common room, two weeks before final exams were set to begin.

Harriet gave her a sceptical look and Erica rolled her eyes.

“Okay, well enough,” she corrected. “He’s miserable but I’m helping out. He’d be better if those two little—” she referred to Pansy and Pixie by a very rude word indeed “—didn’t keep sniping at him all the time and reminding him about the appeal… in his other classes he’s doing okay. We’re almost to the end. We have our class tomorrow, then just one more week and it’s final exams.”

“That’s true,” Kieran said. “Almost there…”

“Has a date been set on the appeal yet?” Marcus asked.

Erica shook her head. “Not that I know, so I doubt it. He’d probably have told you guys first thing if he had.”

Harriet felt oddly reassured about that and couldn’t help but give a soft smile.

“How’s studying for OWLs going?” Ronnie asked.

Erica shrugged. “Alright. It’d probably be easier for everyone if Fred and George were still up to their usual tricks.”

“Yeah, though if they were, they probably wouldn’t be able to anyway,” Harriet said, glancing across the common room to where Percy sat, working feverishly. “Percy’d have them in detention every night.”

Erica laughed, drawing a dirty look from Percy. “That’s true,” Erica said. She looked at her watch and stood up.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in. We’re studying billywigs tomorrow, so I wanna get an early start getting ready.”

“Are they that much trouble you’ll need that much prep time?” Kieran asked raising his eyebrows.

“Nah, well, kind of,” Erica said. “Not dangerous or anything, but distracting. Well, night ya’ll, see you in class.”

She headed off to the staircase to the girls’ dormitories. “Night,” Harriet called after her.

“I’m really getting worried about Hagrid,” Marcus said dismally.

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed. “I don’t think Dumbledore would ever sack him, but he can’t even work up the courage to teach anymore…”

“Well, all we can do is keep working on the appeal for him,” Kieran said, trying to sound reassuring.

Ronnie sighed closing her book on Hippogriff brutality. “Beaky’s doomed, isn’t he?”

“Of course not,” Kieran said, a bit too quickly.

Everyone looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Well… okay, yeah… probably…” he said, slumping in his chair.

### * * * *

“And that’s why, as pleasant as it is, you always want to wear gloves while handling billywigs.”

The Care of Magical Creatures class was almost over. True to form, Neville had forgotten to put on his dragon-hide gloves when it finally came time to transfer the billywigs to larger enclosures and got stung. Instead of anything painful, he ended up floating lazily up into the air, with a euphoric expression on his face, giggling.

“Is he going to be okay?” Basheera asked. She and Tori were each holding onto one of Neville’s ankles to keep him from floating away.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Hagrid said. For some reason, the incident had actually made him laugh instead of feeling worse. Perhaps it was helped by Jackson, Dean and Seamus all making jokes about wanting to get stung now too in order to get over their final examination jitters. “Just get him ter the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey’ll set him right in a jiffy.”

“Hey Basheera,” Neville said, giggling madly.

“Y-yes?” Basheera asked, looking up at Neville with trepidation.

“I can see your house from here,” Neville said, giggling more loudly still as he pointed at Gryffindor tower. “Get it!”

A wave of sniggers swept over the Gryffindors. A few of the Slytherins joined in, though it was quickly stifled amongst their ranks as Crabbe and Goyle looked around at them all darkly.

In the aftermath of the match, Malfoy seemed to have gone back to normal. He wasn’t taunting Hagrid anymore, but Crabbe and Goyle had gone back to doing his bidding seamlessly. Harriet noted that Zabini in particular was looking mutinous about this. Harriet was sure he’d gotten used to his time as being “top dog” of the Slytherin third years, and she doubted this was going to be the end of it.

The bell rang for the end of class and the students began making their way up to the castle. Aurochius re-joined them, having been off tochat with Epeius while the class went on.

“Well, you see why I wanted some extra prep time,” Erica said, also joining them. “But, somehow you never can quite account for Neville, no matter how hard you try.”

Erica shook her head though her smile was kind as she looked at the floating figure of Neville ahead of them as Basheera and Tori took him to the hospital wing.

“He always tries though,” Kieran said. “You gotta give him that. He’s terrified of everything, but he does it anyway.”

“That’s true,” Harriet said, smiling affectionately after Neville.

Just then, Erica paused.

“What is it?” Harriet asked.

“What’s Emma doing?” Erica asked.

Harriet followed Erica’s gaze. Emma Flamel was walking back towards the school, carrying a small hand-basket. She was smiling and skipping every other step, looking happier than Harriet had ever seen her. Harriet’s heart skipped a beat. She was sure that Emma had just been to see Snuffles, probably bringing him food by the look of the basket.

“I’ll go find out,” Dora said in an ever suffering voice and stormed off after her younger sister.

“Well if she’s that happy it can’t be anything too bad,” Rachel said. “Honestly, it’s good to see her smiling for a change.”

“Dora has been more protective than usual since the first time Sirius Black broke in,” Hermione said.

Aurochius sighed. “Yes, I heard about that. And to someone already delicate, I imagine that would have been a very traumatic experience. It is an understandable reaction, if perhaps misguided.”

“Yeah…” Erica said, rubbing her cheek. “I’m gonna go check something out.”

At once she set off in the direction that Emma had come from. Harriet shifted from foot to foot anxiously. She didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, if Emma had been visiting Snuffles, and Erica found him, Harriet knew Erica wouldn’t care. But how would the staff react? Especially if they found out Emma had been sneaking out to feed him? She didn’t want to get Emma in trouble any more than she wanted her to lose her friendship with the dog, especially seeing how happy it made her.

“Erica, wait!” Harriet called out.

Erica paused looking back. Everyone was looking at Harriet as she beckoned Erica back. Erica walked back, a confused look on her face. Harriet turned to Aurochius.

“Aurochius, can I um… talk to Erica in private for a minute…?”

Aurochius considered her for a moment before slowly nodding. “Alright, but stay in sight.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said with relief before grabbing Erica’s wrist and pulling her away from the group.

“What are you on about?” Ronnie asked, but Harriet waved a hand at her as she took Erica out of earshot of whispering distance.

“I have something I gotta tell you, about Emma…”

Erica narrowed her eyes. Harriet bit her lip. “She um… she found a dog… in the grounds.”

“A dog?” Erica asked.

“Yeah, a big dog… a really big dog… big and black. She’s drawn pictures of her and the dog together, I saw her and the dog together at the first Quidditch match back in November, and then I saw the dog again last night running across the grounds.”

Erica’s eyes widened.

“A black dog? You don’t mean it’s like a _Black_ dog, black dog?” she asked, obvious interest showing. “The magical kind?”

“I… I don’t know for sure, but I _think_ it’s a Gurt Dog.”

Erica’s expression went from bemused interest to four-year-old on Christmas morning. “A _Gurt Dog_?! Seriously?” she asked, breathless with excitement. “Oh I’ve so got to see it!”

“Wait!” Harriet said. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” she asked anxiously.

“Heck no,” Erica said. “But a Gurt Dog, a real one, that I so have to see. I hope it’s still there! See you later, Har’,” she said and rushed past the rest, heading off to the other end of the castle.

“Okay, what was that about?” Ronnie asked.

“I… can’t say now,” Harriet replied. “I’ll tell you all tonight.”

Harriet noticed Aurochius looking after Erica. He seemed uneasy, and Harriet felt a little bit annoyed by the realization that he must have overheard.

“Well, let’s get lunch anyway,” Marcus said. “I’m famished.”

“Great idea,” Ronnie agreed.

They started off and Harriet held back.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” Harriet asked Aurochius. It was difficult to keep accusation out of her voice.

“No,” Aurochius replied, overlooking it. “I just remembered the smell is all, the smell I detected when we caught Emma out of bounds the last time. It was dog. Though a strange dog. It must have been the same, though I never saw the dog the last time.”

“Oh, sorry,” Harriet said. “I’m just…”

“On edge, understandable. I know you don’t exactly like me following you around between classes, but it’s my job, and there are serious dangers still, even if neither have reared their head for a while.”

Harriet nodded. “You are a good—well I mean, not like human person but—you are a good person, even if I’ve probably been a pain,” Harriet admitted.

Aurochius snorted. “Your father and his friends gave my father a similar hard time.”

“Your father was watching out for my father?” Harriet asked.

“No, no,” Aurochius waved a hand dismissively. “But they were masters at sneaking out. At least once a month I remember my dad complaining about another escape of theirs. So for that I suppose I owe you.”

“How so?” Harriet asked.

“Because for once I finally understand my father.”

“Har-har,” Harriet grumbled. Harriet had to cover her ears as Aurochius broke out in booming laughter.

### * * * *

Harriet flipped another page in a book she’d already read through three timesin their quest to help Hagrid with his case. Neville had been mostly returned to normal by Madam Pomfrey and Miss Momori, though he was still a bit more giggly than usual as he studied with Basheera, Tori and Rachel at a nearby table.

“What is it about him?” Dean asked nearby, looking at the group.

“Yeah, it’s like all the sudden he’s gone from being ‘mister loser’, to ‘mister ladies man.’ But he’s the same bumbling idiot he always was,” Seamus added.

“Oh shut up,” Harriet said, balling up a piece of parchment and throwing it at Dean.

“Yes, you know maybe if you spent more time actually _talking_ to girls and being pleasant instead of about them and feeling sorry for yourselves, maybe you wouldn’t be sitting there alone,” Hermione chimed in.

Dean and Seamus rolled their eyes and went back to studying in silence. Harriet sighed and was about to go to bed when George walked up to their table, looking uncharacteristically worried.

“Hey, question for you lot.”

“Yeah?” Ronnie asked, stretching and groaning wearily.

“Erica was helping with your Care of Magical Creatures class today, right?”

“Yeah,” Kieran said. “Billywigs.”

“Have any of you um… seen her since?”

The group of third years all looked at each other. By the looks on their faces, it was clear none of them had.

“Yeah, she wasn’t in classes all afternoon, and she wasn’t at dinner either,” Angelina said, walking up beside George with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell.

“That’s… that’s weird…” Harriet said. She was getting a very deep, sinking feeling inside her.

“We checked the hospital wing and she wasn’t there either,” Alicia said.

“Last we saw her was after class, she went to check on something,” Marcus said. He was starting to look worried too.

“She’s not in the dorm is she?” Harriet asked.

George, Angelina, Alicia and Katie all raised an eyebrow looking at her. “Right, sorry, stupid question,” Harriet said.

Just then the portrait hole opened. Everyone spun around to look, and Harriet felt a strong pang of hope that it would be Erica finally climbing through the portrait hole. It vanished instantly. It wasn’t Erica who climbed through the portrait hole. It was Professor McGonagall.

“Harriet Potter,” Professor McGonagall called.

Harriet rose slowly. Professor McGonagall’s tone was not angry, but it was very grave. Professor McGonagall swallowed. “Please, come with me. The Headmaster has requested your presence.”

Harriet felt her knees trembling. She didn’t know how to feel, she didn’t know what could have happened. Had the dog attacked Erica? That didn’t fit with what Professor Howe had told her about Gurt Dogs, but what if it wasn’t a Gurt Dog after all? But if it wasn’t, why was it being nice to Emma?

She finally managed to walk towards Professor McGonagall. No one spoke as she awkwardly climbed out of the portrait hole after the taller Professor and it shut loudly behind them. Or perhaps the otherwise overwhelming silence made it seem louder than she’d ever heard it. It was then Harriet noticed something odd. The usual guards standing outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room were no longer there.

“I… I have some terrible news, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she immediately started down the stairs.

She was moving so quickly Harriet was having a hard time keeping up. Her insides felt frozen. How could this have happened? She had just been trying to keep one of her best friend’s little sister happy, how could something this terrible have happened? She couldn’t be dead. Erica just couldn’t be dead. She’d been so excited to see the dog, and it was all Harriet’s fault. She should have told someone. She should tell Professor McGonagall right now, but her own internal turmoil was giving her a severe case of lock-jaw.

“It concerns Miss Quoy… I assume you have noticed she’s missing.”

Harriet didn’t answer, and Professor McGonagall did not wait for a response.

“It… how this can have happened two years in a row… with all our new security measures… but—” Professor McGonagall finally stopped and looked at Harriet.

As Harriet looked up at her, she saw deep pain and worry etched into every line of Professor McGonagall’s face. “—Miss Quoy appears to have been kidnapped… by Sirius Black.”

 

*Niamh is pronounced “nee-iv” or “neev”.


	24. The Damage Done

 “It is important to accept our missteps and failings. Equally important is not letting those same missteps slow us down. Recognition of them leads to humility. Overcoming them leads to greatness.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

"Ah, Harriet, there you are."

Harriet felt as though she was running on autopilot as she stepped into the Headmaster’s office. The room was crammed full of people. Professor Stratton was there once more, as were Dora's father and Professor Howe. Cornelius Fudge was there as well, along with his senior undersecretary and Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Office.

Harriet noted that Mr Crouch was not there this time. Instead, his place seemed to have been taken by Professor Morrisey and Mr Dusk. Aurochius, the other minotaurs, Meinos, and the fauns were also there. The minotaurs all looked sullen; their heads were low, as if ashamed. The fauns however were looking mutinous. Meinos meanwhile was sitting next to Professor Howe, looking equally deep in thought.

Professor Stratton and Mr Flamel were again standing either side of Professor Dumbledore. In spite of it all, the fact that Dora’s father was still standing in a position of support to Dumbledore gave Harriet a small bit of comfort. As the head of the school governors, Mr Flamel held great sway over the school. So knowing that he was still standing with Professor Dumbledore was a good sign.

Unlike last time, Professor Howe was not smiling with barely contained joy. Instead he looked solemn. He was sitting in the same chair as before, but now was looking contemplative and didn’t seem to be paying attention to anyone else in the room. His eyes were focused, though Harriet wasn’t sure what they were focused on. He was leaning forward, his elbows propped on the chair arms, his hands clasped together, chin resting on his stuck out thumbs. His index fingers seemed to be the only thing moving, swiping in front of his eyes, as if he were pushing invisible bits of information back and forth.

Professor Morrisey on the other hand was watching Fudge with his usual calculating stare. He looked very composed, almost like a statue, except for his eyes which were boring into the back of Fudge’s head. Mr Dusk was giving Harriet an odd look. It seemed as though he was trying to smile, but it was coming off looking more like he’d swigged a mouthful of sour milk.

Despite his awkward look, Mr Dusk’s presence was comforting. Yet something about him being there puzzled Harriet. Then she remembered Professor Lupin saying how Mr Dusk had once been an auror. Maybe he had been asked in to consult. Scrimgeour, she noticed, was giving Mr Dusk an odd look too, but Mr Dusk seemed to be ignoring him.

“Please, Harriet, have a seat,” Professor Dumbledore said. He drew and flicked his wand summoning a soft armchair from the wall and setting it right in the middle of the room.

Harriet sat, her jaw still locked. Despite Professor Dumbledore’s gentle tone, Harriet couldn’t help but feel as though she was sitting in a giant spotlight.

“Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore went on, leaning forward on his desk and looking at her with his piercing blue eyes.

Harriet swallowed.

“By now, Professor McGonagall has told you what happened?”

“Yes, sir,” Harriet managed to say.

She stole a glance at Aurochius. Had he told them about the incident with the dog? Was that why she’d been summoned?

 “Is it true you spoke to Miss Quoy shortly before her disappearance, after your Care of Magical Creatures lesson this morning?” Professor Dumbledore continued.

Harriet’s lips tightened. So Aurochius had told. She wanted to feel angry about that, but something in her mind stopped her. Of course he would have; Erica was in danger. That was more important than anything else right now.

“Yes,” Harriet managed to say. Her throat was very dry.

“I see,” Professor Dumbledore said. “And what did you discuss?”

“I… well…” Harriet struggled for words.

“It’s okay, Harriet,” Mr Dusk said. He stepped up next to her and put a hand gently on her shoulder. “You’re not in any trouble, you couldn’t have known this was going to happen, none of us saw it coming.”

Harriet bit her lip and slowly nodded. The feeling of Mr Dusk’s hand and his gentle tone went a long way towards comforting her and she took a deep breath. The problem was, it wasn’t herself being in trouble she was worried about. She glanced toward Mr Flamel and knew in an instant she couldn’t tell them about Emma. By the sound of it, Aurochius hadn’t told them about Emma either. Harriet supposed that was her out as well.

“She… we were walking back from class and she thought she saw something,” Harriet said.

“‘Something,’” Mr Scrimgeour asked. “What kind of ‘something?’”

“A…” she fumbled for the words and decided to crash on. “A dog. A really big, black dog.”

The reaction to this revelation was mixed. Mr Flamel, Fudge, Scrimgeour, and Professor McGonagall all looked perplexed. Professor Dumbledore continued to look at her with his searching eyes, but otherwise showed no reaction, and neither did Professor Morrisey. Aurochius made an odd sniffing noise but otherwise did not react.

Professor Stratton’s eyes seemed to darken and his lips tightened. Professor Howe’s fingers stopped their meticulous movements and unless Harriet was much mistaken, a look of distinct relief passed across his face. He saw her looking and gave her the tiniest of winks before he resumed looking thoughtful and concerned. Mr Dusk, meanwhile, went the colour of sour milk.

“And why did you pull her aside to talk to her about it?” Professor Dumbledore pressed on.

“Well,” Harriet chewed her lip again. “I… I thought, or, think, I saw the dog in the grounds the night before.” Harriet paused to collect her thoughts. No one spoke. “I woke up from a nightmare because I was nervous about the match, and looked out the window while getting some water, and I saw it crossing the grounds. It-it looked just like the one we saw the night I left the Dursleys,” she said looking at Professor Howe.

Professor Howe simply smiled at Harriet. Harriet opened her mouth to speak again but the words caught in her throat. Did she dare tell them about the panther too?

“Well, Black Dogs aren’t exactly rare,” Fudge said waving a dismissive hand. “The forest must be teeming with them.”

Harriet looked over at him. He was still pacing a small stretch of one of Professor Dumbledore’s rugs.

Professor Dumbledore turned to the fauns. “Have any of you smelt a strange dog in the grounds recently?”

Antonius opened his mouth to speak but Aurochius cut him off.

“I smelled the dog that Harriet speaks of. It was not the scent of a dog I recognized, but I thought as the minister did, that an ordinary dog is not an impossibility around the castle, and so did not find it suspicious.”

Fudge paused his pacing and gave Aurochius a calculating look. “Well, I for one see no reason to jump to the conclusion that it was Sirius Black,” Fudge said.

“Minister, you ‘ave seen ze note!” Mr Flamel said, looking angry. “Oo else could it be?”

“Note?” Harriet asked before she could stop herself.

“Yes, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said.

He picked up a small, folded piece of parchment from his desk and held it out to Mr Dusk, who took it and handed it to Harriet. Harriet opened it with trembling fingers and read.

 

_If you want the girl back, give me the rat._

 

Harriet blinked. “The rat?” she asked.

“Yes,” Professor Howe said quickly, shifting in his chair and leaning back. “We believe it is a reference to the traitor he spoke of over the summer.”

“Then why did he not just say that plainly?” Scrimgeour demanded, studying Professor Howe shrewdly.

“We’re talking about a man who spent thirteen years in Azkaban without a trial, Rufus old boy,” Professor Howe said casually. Harriet couldn’t help but notice the slight edge that Professor Howe put on ‘without a trial.’

“We can’t really expect him to be thinking completely logically or acting completely rationally, can we?” Professor Howe went on. He seemed in his element once again as he lounged back in the chair.

“But using vernacular like “the rat?” Scrimgeour said.

“Maybe he’s actually looking for a rat?” Professor Howe suggested.

This proclamation was met by stunned silence. Even the scratching of the Minister’s senior undersecretary’s quill had stopped. Most of the people in the room; Professor McGonagall, Fudge, Scrimgeour, Umbridge, Meinos, and Mr Flamel all were looking flabbergasted. Professor Dumbledore on the other hand was giving Professor Howe a disapproving look. Harriet had to agree with Professor Dumbledore, this was certainly not the time for jokes like that.

However, three reactions caught Harriet’s attention. Professor Stratton had gone rigid for just a second and slowly turned to look at Professor Howe with stunned disbelief. Something about his disbelief seemed different to the others. When Professor Howe glanced at Professor Stratton, something like understanding seemed to spring up between them and Professor Stratton’s look of disbelief faded into thoughtful introspection.

Professor Morrisey, meanwhile, gave no reaction whatsoever. At least none that Harriet could see. This time, he was studying her in that same calculating way he had studied Scott and Atsuko. His eyes were looking right into hers. While Harriet was glad that he wasn’t looking at her with quite the same disdain and disapproval he had bent on those he deemed foolish, Harriet was unsettled even more by this strange approval. While Professor Dumbledore’s gaze gave Harriet the uncomfortable feeling of being x-rayed, Professor Morrisey’s gaze left her feeling more like she was being dissected.

The starkest reaction was Mr Dusk’s. His hand on her shoulder clenched and froze in a tight grip. Harriet looked up at him.

He was staring blankly, his jaw set. He slowly turned to look at Professor Howe and broke the heavy silence. “You… you’re not serious?” he asked. He sounded breathless.

Professor Howe gave no response, simply continued to lounge back in the chair. Harriet didn’t know why, but based on their reactions, Harriet couldn’t help but draw the conclusion that Professor Howe’s statement had been meant for Professor Stratton and Mr Dusk. But if so, what could he have meant by it?

“Yes, zees is hardly ze moment for jokes, ‘Eadmaster,” Dora’s father said.

Harriet bit her lip looking between Mr Dusk and Mr Flamel. Somehow, she did not think that was what Mr Dusk meant.

“Yes, quite right, Mr Flamel, but as I said, after thirteen years in Azkaban, one can hardly expect him to have perfectly stable reasoning. We cannot let anything surprise us where Black’s actions are concerned,” Professor Howe explained.

“That is a fair enough assessment, Sherrod, if perhaps a bit glib for the occasion,” Professor Dumbledore said, a hint of coolness in his voice.

Beside her, Mr Dusk had not let up from his strained grip on Harriet’s shoulder. He was still staring at Professor Howe. Unlike Professor Stratton, however, Howe had not given Mr Dusk the same knowing look.

Harriet was distracted by Scrimgeour. “His levels of instability makes this issue all the more serious,” Scrimgeour said. “And only makes me all the more certain that Miss Quoy is in even greater danger.”

“If it is Black, which I doubt,” Fudge said.

“And she’d be safer were it Kinney?” Professor Howe asked.

“Why in Merlin’s name would it be Kinney?” Professor Morrisey asked. The disdain in his voice was thick. “If obtaining an American student like Erica was part of his end goal, why would he send a nonsensical note like that? Or any note, for that matter? No. This was most certainly Sirius Black.”

“But if Black’s end-goal is getting his hands on Harriet, then why didn’t he demand Harriet?” Fudge spat back.

“Well, we do have to accept a certain level of instability. However, what in essence is Black asking for? I believe one can reasonably assume he is asking for the traitor he spoke of last summer. When people barter—”

“Professor Morrisey!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed. “This is a kidnapped student, not a medieval market!”

“Yes, you’re right Professor McGonagall, but the example is still sound. It’s an exchange. Someone isn’t going to exchange something of a certain value for something of equal value—”

“Yes they are! That’s how money works!” Fudge spat.

Professor Morrisey gave him a cold look. “Yes, in a monetary system, one exchanges a certain value of currency for an item of equal value to that currency, based on availability, cost of manufacture or procurement, et cetera, and vice versa. At least in principle. But this is a bartering arrangement, not a monetary arrangement. He is not demanding money, as in say a ransom, for Erica’s life. He’s asking for another good. In a barter system, value is based on utility, and people are going to try and exchange up. They’re going to try and exchange an item they have less use for, for something they have a higher use for, and their counterpart in the exchange is going to do the same. But they also have to be smart about it and try to not exchange too high or they’ll be rejected. I do not mean to devalue Miss Quoy at all, but to a mind like Black’s, she has little value.”

“All of our students have value!” Mr Flamel said and actually slammed a fist on Professor Dumbledore’s desk.

Professor Morrisey held up a hand. “Please, Governor, let me finish. She _does_ have value to us. He wants to use that to obtain something of value to him. But what can he get for it? He cannot get Harriet, because we’re not going to exchange a teenage girl for a teenage girl. As this is a barter, it would be like attempting to exchange an apple for an apple. What’s the point of the exchange? And he must know that we know how much he values Harriet, and how much we do not wish him to have her. And thus, even if he’s deranged, he can’t expect us to reasonably exchange Harriet for Erica. But, he has to attempt to get something out of it, so he’s going to shift his focus to the lesser of the two items he desires.”

 “But we can’t do either,” Meinos chimed in.

“No, indeed not,” Professor Morrisey said. “However, what we must consider; which again is why this system is more complex than simple exchange, is he may be attempting to play to that spy’s inner human nature. He knows we won’t hand over the spy, but the spy can think and act for himself. Perhaps he is attempting to goad the spy into taking matters into his own hands?”

This was met by more heavy silence as the adults in the room contemplated. Harriet was looking at Professor Morrisey. She couldn’t remember the discussion from the night that she’d arrived at Glen Raglan well enough to remember if Professor Howe had said so when he first told her about the ‘traitor’ Sirius Black was after, but something in Professor Morrisey’s comments caught her attention. _So the ‘traitor’ is a man, then_? Harriet thought.

“Well, the most certain thing is that this situation was not properly handled from the start,” Fudge said, puffing himself up. “This is now an issue for the Auror office. Whether this is Black or not, which I still doubt, this requires our direct intervention.”

“Minister,” Mr Flamel began to say but Professor Dumbledore held up a hand to him.

“What are you suggesting, Cornelius?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“I am no longer suggesting, Dumbledore,” Fudge replied. “I am putting Rufus in charge of school security from here on. Aurors will guard the gates, and security trolls will guard the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Even if this wasn’t Black, we have to still acknowledge he is at large and in the area. If you ask me, that’s Kinney’s angle. He’s preying on our fears, distracting us. Just like he did last summer. He’s expecting us to turn our attention on Black directly, lessening our focus on him. In fact—”

Fudge stopped pacing and looked as though he’d just had an epiphany. “That must be how he did it…”

“Did what, Minister?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Yes, yes that makes perfect sense now,” Fudge said and resumed pacing.

“What does, Minister?” Scrimgeour asked, raising his bushy eyebrows.

“Kinney and Black, they’re in it together. Kinney arrives, and one week later Black escapes Azkaban, the first person ever to do so. It can’t be a coincidence. That’s why Kinney has been so quiet since the bombing. Kinney is a terrorist. He broke Black out to conduct that terror for him. Yes, that certainly settles the matter. Rufus, pick your best Aurors and have them assigned to the school at once.”

“Well,” Mr Flamel said. “I cannot argue wiz more security for ze school,” he said. “Between ze aurors and Meinos’ team, we shall certainly get—”

“I’m afraid that in this present climate, Mon _sieur_ Flamel, I cannot permit that,” Fudge said. “Yes, you are the head governor of Hogwarts, but _I_ am the Prime Minister. This is no longer a school matter, this is now a national security matter!”

Fudge turned to the minotaurs, fauns and satyr. “Your role was to protect the school from something like this happening. You failed.”

Aurochius’ eyes burned briefly before seeming to go out.

“So now I see why Mr Crouch was not invited along this time,” Professor Howe said.

Fudge gave Professor Howe a look much akin to the looks Professor Trelawney would give Hermione. “Barty was otherwise engaged,” Fudge snapped. “And I do not have to explain myself to you.”

“No? I thought elected officials served the public—”

“That is enough.”

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet He had not raised his voice, but once more a heavy silence fell over the room as Professor Dumbledore’s piercing blue eyes swept back and forth between Fudge and Professor Howe.

“None of this returns Miss Quoy to us safe and sound. That is all that should matter now. Daniel, would you please escort Harriet back to Gryffindor tower?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” Mr Dusk said. His voice and breathing had returned to normal, though his hand was still gripping her shoulder a bit harder than normal.

“Thank you,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Mr Dusk nodded and finally let go of Harriet’s shoulder. Harriet rose from the chair and followed Mr Dusk to the door. Once it shut behind them, Harriet heard raised voices as arguments broke out once more.

Mr Dusk didn’t say anything for a while as they walked. It wasn’t until they got to the entrance hall that he paused.

“I’m sorry… all this has to happen to you, Harriet,” he said in a quiet voice.

Harriet looked up at him.

“You don’t deserve this… any of it… you deserve to be happy… all of them deserve to be happy… home with the people they love.”

Daniel paused. Harriet assumed by “all of them” he was referring to Erica and the rest of the American students.

“Mr—I mean, Daniel?” Harriet asked.

“Sorry, Harriet,” Daniel said. “Just… a lot on my mind all a sudden.

Harriet nodded but the question she longed to ask burst out of her. “Daniel, what was Professor Howe talking about, with the rat? Was he just kidding? He doesn’t really think Sirius Black’s looking for a rat does he?”

Daniel turned to look down at her. His eyes were red and his lips very tight. He considered her for a moment. Then, he slowly smiled. “How would you like some hot chocolate, and a Hogwarts trade secret?”

“A secret?” Harriet asked. She was sure he had changed the subject on purpose, but the thought of hot chocolate and something fun and exciting after all that had happened was a worthy distraction at the moment.

“Yep, one of the best in the school,” he said. His eyes had gone from red to twinkling in a matter of moments. “But it’ll be just between us, okay?”

“Okay,” Harriet agreed.

Daniel grinned and put a hand on her shoulder, guiding her down the stairs. She walked along, growing more curious as they made their way down towards the dungeons. They turned right and Harriet’s stomach clenched. They were heading towards the place where she and Marcus had found Colin petrified the previous year.

Harriet was distracted staring at the spot in front of the portrait where Colin’s body had been lying. Daniel nudged her with his elbow and nodded to the large portrait of a fruit bowl and gave Harriet a distinctly mischievous grin. He reached out to the portrait and gave the pear a little tickle. Harriet gasped as the pear twitched, giggled, and popped into a door handle. Daniel’s grin widened as he turned the handle and pushed the hidden door open.

Bright light hit Harriet’s eyes, temporarily blinding her after spending so long in the dimly lit corridors. At the same time, her ears were assaulted with what sounded like the panging of many pots and pans and clacking of stacking plates.

“Miss me, everyone?” Daniel said stepping inside the door.

“It’s Master Daniel!” a squeaky voice cried, and was immediately joined by other excited, squeaky exclamations.

Daniel turned and smiled down at her. Harriet gasped. It was a large kitchen, much in the shape of the Great Hall which Harriet realized was directly above them. Pots and pans and plates were moving about, apparently on their own, being cleaned and stacked. Then they were rushed by a horde of tiny little beings that Harriet recognized at once as house-elves.

“Welcome to the Hogwarts kitchens,” Daniel said, his eyes twinkling warmly.

### * * * *

Harriet slept badly that night. It was well after midnight by the time she returned to Gryffindor Tower. Fortunately, everyone had gone to bed by then. While she fell asleep quickly at first, her sleep was punctuated by nightmares; the horrible things that must be happening to Erica, the horrible things Black would do to Harriet if he caught her. She eventually gave up on sleeping and instead opened her trunk and drew out the Marauder’s Map. She stared at it for a long time, thinking hard.

It was no good lying to herself about it. If she had turned in the map like Hermione had suggested at first, this wouldn’t have happened. Black probably would have been caught ages ago. She lay there for hours tormenting herself in her mind. It was her fault. It was all her fault. If she hadn’t been so selfish with the map, none of this would have happened. Erica would be safe, Black would have been apprehended, and things would have gone back to normal ages ago.

There was only one thing for it. Harriet had got out her quill and ink and started to write a letter to Professor Lupin. She didn’t know why exactly she was writing it to Professor Lupin and not Professor Dumbledore. It wasn’t out of shame (Harriet was writing the letter anonymously) but Harriet supposed it was because of the night she and Professor Lupin had talked about his past friendship with Black. She felt somehow like Professor Lupin deserved to be the one to catch Black.

She detailed how to use the map and folded up the note with the map. By that time, it was already starting to get light out and she heard the rustling as the other girls in her dorm started waking up.

“Wow, you look like hell,” AJ said as Harriet opened the curtains.

Harriet merely grunted in response and started to get dressed. Hermione caught sight of the map and gave Harriet a quizzical look but Harriet ignored her. She was going to go to the owlery and send it with one of the school owls. She left the dorm without a word to anyone, ignoring Ronnie calling after her. Fred, George, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia were sitting around the fireplace and they looked over as Harriet entered the Common Room.

“Harriet!” George said hurrying over. “Did you hear anything?”

Harriet still couldn’t talk about it. She had to do her mission first. She had to make up for what she’d done in keeping the map.

“Later,” Harriet said and brushed past him, heading determinedly towards the portrait hole.

George followed after her and caught her arm just as she started to climb out of the portrait hole.

“Let go,” Harriet said.

“Harriet, please,” George said.

His tone stopped Harriet. It was so pained Harriet just couldn’t ignore him. She looked up into his tormented face and sighed.

“George… Erica… Erica’s been kidnapped… by Sirius Black… and maybe Kinney… the Minister of Magic thinks they’re working together,” Harriet said, the words tumbling out of her mouth.

George’s expression went from tormented to horrified. At once, the admission made her feel better, and yet at the same time, the look on George’s face made her feel worse. So she supposed she felt the same in the end.

George looked down at the folded up parchment in her hand. “That’s the map isn’t it?”

Harriet simply nodded.

“Give it to me…” he said holding out a hand.

“What, why?” Harriet asked. “I’m turning it in.”

“No you’re not,” George said. “I am.”

Harriet blinked. “George?”

“We stole it from Filch… it’s our fault…”

“Oh shut up, George.” It was Fred, who had walked up behind his twin.

“If Filch never knew how it worked, how was that going to help? We can’t blame ourselves any more than Harriet. We’re all in it together. And look at it this way, if we hadn’t stolen it and worked out how to work it, then there wouldn’t be this chance with Harriet turning it in for them to catch Black and rescue Erica would there?”

Harriet and George both were looking at Fred. Fred gave a half attempt at a smile. “Okay, maybe we shoulda turned it in once Black was on the loose, but, now we get to turn it around and be the heroes don’t we?”

Harriet jumped up and gave Fred a hug. It was maybe a superficial reason to feel better, but it did make Harriet feel better about her decision. Fred gave her an awkward hug back and Harriet let go.

“Okay, I’m going to the owlery to send it off to Professor Lupin,” she said holding up the map. “I didn’t name any names, just said how to work it and to use it to find Black.”

“Good plan,” George said.

Harriet finally smiled and turned but found her path blocked by something very large and brown.

“And where do you think you’re going all alone?” said a very deep, familiar voice.

“Aurochius!” Harriet exclaimed and hugged the massive minotaur tight around his waist. She both heard and felt him chuckle and put a massive hand on her back and shoulders.

“I thought Fudge kicked you all out?”

Aurochius chuckled again. “Well, that was his idea. At least until Mr Flamel not so subtly reminded the Minister of all the programs that he donates to that upsetting him might jeopardize…”

Harriet couldn’t help but laugh again. “I bet Fudge loved that.”

“Not particularly,” Aurochius said. “Long story short, we continue to monitor the interior of the school, and aurors guard the entrance to the castle.”

“No security trolls?” Harriet asked.

“No security trolls,” Aurochius replied.

Harriet suddenly flushed looking back at the portrait hole which had just closed.

“So, you uh… heard all that, huh?”

“Yes,” Aurochius said simply.

“Is it um… is it okay if I go to the Owlery then?” she asked.

Aurochius looked troubled. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Mr Dawlish about that.”

“Mr Dawlish?” Harriet asked.

“Yes, your um… new guard,” Aurochius said.

He turned and Harriet followed his gaze to a man Harriet didn’t recognize. Mr Dawlish was talking to one of the fauns. He seemed to have a pompous, self-important air as he doled out patrol instructions. The man turned away from the faun and spotting Harriet started over. Behind his back, the faun fingered one of his daggers looking at the departing man’s back with eyes narrowed to slits.

“Ah, Potter, there you are. My name is John Dawlish, from the Auror office. The Minister has placed me in charge of your security until the term is over.”

He held out a hand to her. Harriet shook, but very reluctantly. “But, Aurochius is my bodyguard.”

Dawlish glanced up at Aurochius. “Not anymore, I’m afraid. The Minister felt the matter had to be handled with more care than has been shown in the past.”

Harriet’s cheeks burned. “Aurochius is a great bodyguard! He’s done everything to protect me. His job was to protect me specifically and he did that over and over again. He blocked me from a bunch of jinxes a couple weeks ago during a fight in the corridor!”

“Yes, that is what a bodyguard is supposed to do,” Dawlish said, dismissively.

Harriet felt her dislike for the man growing rapidly. Well, if he was going to be that rude to Aurochius right in front of him, she had no reason to be polite to his face either.

“I don’t want you as my bodyguard,” Harriet said flatly.

“I’m afraid you don’t get a choice, Miss Potter,” he turned to Aurochius. “Aurochius, would you please go patrol the charms corridor?”

Harriet wanted Aurochius to take out his broad double-bladed axe and flatten the man into a pancake. Instead, he nodded. “Yes, Mr Dawlish,” he said. He turned to Harriet and smiled. “Don’t worry, Harriet. You’ll see me around still.”

Harriet was about to protest but Aurochius turned and walked away. Harriet clenched her hands in fists, trembling.

“So, Miss Potter, where would you like to go? Breakfast?” Dawlish asked.

Harriet glared at him. Well, if he wanted to be rude to a friend of hers and guard her and follow her around, he’d have to take the consequences.

“Well, the _first_ place I want to go…” she said, and felt her sense of mischief growing.

### * * * *

Over the next week, in the lead-up to final exams, Harriet did her best to make Dawlish’s life as miserable as possible. Her favourite tactics were darting down secret tunnels that Dawlish didn’t know and then popping back out and telling him off for not being able to keep up with her or not paying enough attention. She also managed to talk him into carrying her bags for her between classes.

Further fun could be had during evenings before Dawlish went home; popping her head out of the portrait hole and sending him on errands to the library to fetch books for her. It didn’t matter if she actually needed them or not, just knowing she was running Dawlish through the ringer was enough.

“You have no shame, do you?” Dora asked on their way back from a particularly miserable Care of Magical Creatures class.

“Nope,” Harriet whispered back.

“Love it,” Dora smirked. “I’m so rubbing off on you.”

“Oh shut up,” Harriet said, “It’s just because of how rude he is to Aurochius and the rest.”

Care of Magical Creatures had, if possible, become even worse after Erica’s kidnapping. Hagrid was blaming himself as usual. Hagrid it seemed had completely had enough, and wouldn’t leave his cabin. So instead, classes for the final week before exams were taught by a substitute teacher; a pleasant enough woman named Professor Grubbly-Plank.

Objectively, Harriet recognized that Professor Grubbly-Plank was very good at her job, and was plenty nice, but the fact remained that she just wasn’t Hagrid.

It tore Harriet up inside to see Hagrid so utterly defeated. Especially since, as Hermione pointed out, if Hagrid didn’t pull himself together soon, he was going to lose the appeal too. However, Dawlish wouldn’t let Harriet leave the school anymore except to go to Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology, so her chances to speak to Hagrid were now non-existent.

The one bit of good news was that it seemed as though Professor Lupin had not worked out that Harriet had sent the map. At least he hadn’t said anything about it in their last few Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. However, he was starting to look ill again, so Harriet wondered if maybe that had something to do with it.

Meanwhile, the news of Erica’s kidnapping had swept the school with the usual wildfire pace. The Gryffindors in particular were quite miserable at the news. The body of American students had all fallen into a malaise over it, and Harriet took it as a very good sign that the rest of Gryffindor house in particular was sharing in the misery and anger at Black and/or Kinney.

The worst affected by the incident was Rachel. Like Hagrid, she seemed in shock by the kidnapping, and could barely focus in classes or revision. Everyone was doing their best to be as kind to her and supportive as possible, but none of it seemed to do any good. With her brothers off fighting in the war, and her parents dead, Erica was the closest thing Rachel had left to family.

Rachel seemed to turn around when AJ’s older brother, Ben, and his girlfriend Lindsay Gallifrey decided to hold a sort of event the weekend before finals. They arranged, with Professor McGonagall’s permission, to take over the Entrance Hall and paint a giant sign to place in front of the entrance to the school with one of Erica’s yearbook photos blown up on it, smiling radiantly. It was including a message to “Erica’s kidnapper,” imploring him to “please return our friend.”

Harriet overheard a few older, more cynical students complaining that it was a waste of time, but she didn’t care. She wanted to help out too. It had to be better than doing nothing at all. So that Saturday afternoon, Harriet and her friends all made their way down to the Entrance Hall to help make the sign. They spread out a big canvas sheet, and set to work painting. Dawlish meanwhile skulked around with the air of one who would rather be anywhere else, doing anything else. This raised Harriet’s enjoyment of the activity even more.

Even Professor Dumbledore came down from his study to help. Harriet expected him to be the one to put on the enlarged picture of Erica but was surprised in a very delighted way to see him roll up his sleeves and sit down cross-legged between little Nanette Sinistra and a first-year Gryffindor boy named Andrew Marsh and set to work painting.

Harriet was sitting in a group with her friends, as well as some of Scott’s Ravenclaw friends, Atsuko, Tomomi, Tabitha Dusk (who assured Harriet that the last name was only a coincidence), and Alyssa Munro. They were joined by their Hufflepuff friends: Jeremy, Isabella, Isabella’s little sister Carmina and her friend Sammi, Skye Sutler, and the McGee twins. Lastly they were joined by Dora’s Slytherin friends Sae Miyazaki and Courtney Thomas.

In fact, the turn-out ended up being so large that it was decided in addition to the main sign, everyone would make their own individual smaller signs, to help better reflect the school’s collective plea. However, not everyone was sharing in the festive spirit. Harriet noted with disgust that Zacharias Smith was skulking around the edge of the hall, muttering and sneering at the working students with some of his other less than savoury friends.

“Oh yeah, this’ll totally change Sirius Black’s mind,” Smith said drawing some sniggers from his little gang. “Oh pwease Mistew Bwack, pwease give ouw fwiend back. If she’s even still alive.”

“Get a life, will you?” Dora snapped looking up from her own sign.

“Yeah, if you don’t have a heart enough to care why don’t you just piss off where you belong?” Marcus growled.

Smith glared but his sneer returned. “Hey, everyone likes watching people make fools of themselves, right?”

“Shut up!” It was Rachel this time. She was glaring at Smith and trembling, her hands clenched in rage. Smith didn’t look moved.

“What? It’s you lot who’ve caused all the problems here. All last year with that stupid Heir of Slytherin rubbish, now this year with Black and Kinney.”

“You’re not seriously still blaming the Heir of Slytherin on them and you’re definitely not seriously trying to blame them for Sirius Black are you?” Harriet asked, feeling her own levels of rage rising.

Smith simply shrugged. “Besides, we all know what a flirt Quoy was. Maybe that’s why Black picked her?”

What happened next happened in an instant. Despite her small stature, Rachel crossed to Smith, and channelling Hermione and Pansy Parkinson, slapped Smith hard across the face. However, Smith’s reaction was different to Pansy’s. Instead of stumbling back looking shocked, Smith yelled in rage before clenching and raising a fist. Harriet reached for her wand but Marcus was faster.

“Inciego!” he shouted and a thin wall of flame flared up between Rachel and Smith.

Harriet knew in an instant that something was very wrong. Smith shouted and stumbled backwards, but Rachel flat-out screamed. She collapsed trying to scramble away from the flames and Marcus lowered them at once. He started towards Rachel looking worried. However, he was shoved aside by Jackson Lee.

“What were you thinking!?” Jackson exclaimed moving to Rachel’s side.

Marcus spluttered but at that moment Professor Dumbledore and Dawlish made their way over.

“What’s going on here,” Dawlish was asking sternly and glaring around at all the students.

Professor Dumbledore however went straight to Rachel. She was still trembling, staring blankly into space while muttering. “Burning, they’re all burning…”

“We must take her to the hospital wing at once,” Professor Dumbledore said and rose, lifting Rachel in his arms.

As he did, Harriet was struck by just how little Rachel actually was. She was still trembling and muttering as Professor Dumbledore swept away with her towards the hospital wing, Tori and Jackson following looking anxious. Meanwhile Jeremy and Smith were fighting.

“You tried to punch her? She’s half your size!”

“She slapped me!”

Harriet felt her hands clench and couldn’t help but step forward too. “Oh yeah, big man, goading someone who’s already suffered emotional trauma!” she snapped.

Smith rounded on her too. “Not my fault their leaders were too stupid to know when they were outmatched and let their towns and everyone in them get killed.”

Jeremy growled. This took Harriet aback, as well as Smith whose eyes widened. The growl sounded just like a dog’s.

“Well, sorry not all of us come from happy, healthy, wealthy little families with nice big manors to keep them safe, eh Smith?” Jeremy said, his voice almost a hiss. “Always able to change sides no matter who’s on top by kissing the right feet.”

Smith recovered himself and now took a step towards Jeremy but his friends grabbed his arms to stop him. They pulled him back towards the stairs to the Hufflepuff common room.

“Thanks,” Jeremy said turning to Harriet.

“Don’t mention it, I’ve got my reasons to hate him too,” Harriet replied.

“Yeah… I guess you do. I guess there’s one in every house, right?”

“I guess,” Harriet agreed, though she wasn’t sure of anyone from Ravenclaw or Gryffindor who fit that same mould. Possibly Percy, but even he was not that cruel.

“Let’s go check on Rachel,” Hermione said taking Harriet’s arm.

“Yeah, good idea. See you, Jeremy.”

“See ya, Harriet,” Jeremy said back.

Harriet looked around for her other friends. Most of the students were awkwardly returning to painting, much quieter than before.

“Wait, where’s Marcus and Ronnie?” she asked, noting they weren’t there.

She looked around and spotted the two sitting on one of the steps. Marcus was staring at his hands while Ronnie rubbed a consoling hand along his shoulders, giving him a sympathetic look.

“Did you see the look on her face…?” Marcus said quietly as they approached.

“It’s not your fault, mate,” Kieran said. “You kept that creep from giving her a black-eye.”

“I know,” Marcus groaned, though he didn’t look comforted. “But I’m the one who freaked her out again…”

“Come on,” Scott said sitting on Marcus’ other side. “Let’s just go down to the hospital wing and we can explain what happened… Rachel’s a good person, she’ll understand I’m sure once she’s calmed down.”

Marcus nodded and they helped him back to his feet.

“Where are you going now?” Dawlish asked hurrying after them, looking even more annoyed.

“To the hospital wing,” Harriet said. “Which you’d have known if you were listening.”

Dawlish scowled. He opened his mouth to retort but Dora stepped in.

“By the way, great body-guarding. A fight was about to break out and where were you?” Dora snapped at him.

Dawlish’s scowl grew but he bit back the diatribes he was longing to throw out. Apparently, he was smart enough to know who Dora was and more importantly, who her father was. Dora smirked at him and they made their way to the hospital wing, Dawlish following, furiously, in tow.

To Harriet’s surprise, it was not Madam Pomfrey or Miss Momori who were treating Rachel. Instead, it was the stave bearing minotaur, Maranesa, who was sitting beside her bed. His hand was resting on her forehead and his eyes closed. His hand was so large it covered the entire top of her head. He was emitting little grunts and guttural sounds which Harriet took to be their native language. Rachel meanwhile looked sound asleep. Harriet supposed she’d been given a sleeping potion of some kind.

Maranesa sat like that for a long time as Harriet, Ronnie, Hermione, Dora, Marcus, Scott, Kieran, Tori, Jackson, and Professor Dumbledore looked on. Jackson did turn to Marcus to apologize for yelling at him, which went a long way to cheering Marcus up.

Maranesa finally took his hand off Rachel’s forehead and sighed.

“Yes, Maranesa?” Professor Dumbledore asked, stepping up beside him.

“So much trauma, so much fear and doubt…” Maranesa said. “She saw all of it. She has kept much of it bottled inside, but it is too much. It explodes out of her as lava and ash from a volcano… she will need more care… and a friend to walk the path with her.”

“I see…” Professor Dumbledore said, solemnly. “I’m glad you are here, my friend.”

“Thank you, Albus,” Maranesa said.

The minotaur then turned to Jackson. “You boy, your name?”

“Uh, J-Jackson, Jackson Lee,” Jackson replied, taken aback at being addressed.

“Come here, son,” Maranesa said.

Jackson cautiously stepped forward and gave a squawk of protest but to no avail as Maranesa placed his hand on Jackson’s head too. He began the similar, guttural chants while Jackson stood there, gaping.

Then, suddenly, Maranesa’s eyes snapped open and he pulled his hand off of Jackson’s forehead. He was looking at Jackson with narrowed eyes, studying Jackson’s face very closely.

“That face… how is that face in both your memories…?”

“M-memories?” Jackson asked. “What face?”

Maranesa didn’t respond right away. Instead, he turned to Rachel, scratching his long, bullish-chin.

“Yes… I see now…” he turned back to Jackson. “I can help you… I can help both of you… but you must promise me something, young Jackson Lee.”

“Promise? Promise what?” Jackson asked, sceptically.

“You must do all you can for her,” Maranesa said, looking down at Rachel. “You must be the one to walk the path with her. It will not only help her, but you as well. You will both discover yourselves on this journey…”

“Journey?” Jackson asked, still clearly too flabbergasted to grasp what was going on. So was Harriet, if it came to that.

“Yes. You have both lost much, and yet through your losses are ties that bind. Magic at its deepest, and most impenetrable. You do not have to walk the path, I will not call it destiny. But that is the clear path if you ever want your memories to return.”

Maranesa looked back at Rachel. “You two suffered a similar tragedy, but you were given a buffer… a memory charm placed on your mind. That is all that is keeping you from succumbing to the same condition Rachel has. I’m sure you can deduce part of what it was your mind was blocked from remembering…?”

Jackson’s face hardened and he slowly nodded. Maranesa got to his feet.

“Yes… that is not all… your charm was difficult to penetrate. The person who put it there was strong of will and conviction, but kind and gentle of spirit. What was done was not done from malice, but from pity. But there are things buried in your mind by the charm you are not ready to face. But if you walk this path, care for her and be there for her in times of need, you will both come out of this stronger. And in turn, she will be there for you when you are the one in need.”

Jackson stared at the minotaur for what felt like a minute before he finally nodded. “I will.”


	25. The Prediction

 “There is great creativity in mischief. But also great risk.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Rachel was finally allowed to leave the hospital wing the night before exams began on Monday. She also forgave Marcus for the using the flame charm, which fully brought Marcus out of his slump that weekend. However, the good mood was punctuated by a note from Hagrid.

“Buckbeak’s appeal,” Harriet said, reading the note. “It’s been set for the 9th*.”

“That’s the day we finish our exams,” Hermione said, looking for one of her Arithmancy textbooks.

Hermione had once again puzzled everyone with her odd exam timetable. That Monday, she was scheduled to take both the Arithmancy and Transfiguration finals at the same time. Along with the Charms and Ancient Runes finals as well. By this point, Harriet and the rest had given up asking how Hermione was doing so many things at the same time (and yet not doing them at the same time).

“Yeah,” Harriet said reading on. “Someone from the Committee, a witness from the Ministry, and… and an executioner.”

“They’re bringing the executioner to the appeal!?” Kieran asked, aghast.

“That sounds as though they’ve already decided!” Hermione declared.

“They can’t!” Ronnie moaned. “We’ve spent _ages_ looking up stuff for him! They can’t just ignore it all!”

“Somehow… I think Draco’s dad’s already made the Committee’s mind up for it,” Dora grumbled.

Harriet had to agree. The Ministry, so far in her experience, had shown itself to only be capable of ineptitude or being pushed around by people with money. Justice didn’t matter; not upsetting the right people did. Harriet remembered Hagrid complaining about the Ministry messing up when he took her to Diagon Alley for the very first time.

“ _Ministry of Magic messin’ things up as usual_.” Well, a punishment such as execution that was so entirely disproportionate to the crime was a mess up in Harriet’s book.

Harriet didn’t have time to brood on Hagrid’s behalf. The following morning, exam week began. The first exam, Transfiguration, was particularly tough. Professor McGonagall assigned them all to turn a teapot into a tortoise. Hermione’s biggest concern was her tortoise looking more like a turtle. For everyone else, the worries were willow-patterned shells, breathing steam, and having spouts for tails.

The Charms exam went slightly better. Professor Flitwick tested them on Cheering Charms, which had the positive effect of cheering everyone up greatly. However, it also had some setbacks. Harriet overdid her Cheering Charm on Ronnie, and as a result Ronnie was reduced to such an overpowering fit of giggles she had to wait an hour for the effect to wear off before she could perform the charm herself.

Tuesday was Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Astronomy. Hagrid was so miserable that Professor Grubbly-Plank was overseeing the exam. Fortunately, she picked Porlocks as the subject, which everyone still remembered well as it was a lesson Erica had given them, and everyone came away with a positive sense of how well they had done. However, Harriet couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at Hagrid’s cabin the whole time, hoping for at least a glimpse of her big shaggy friend.

Potions was indifferent as ever. Harriet managed a passable Confusing Concoction in her own mind. True to form Professor Snape passed by without even glancing at her cauldron and scribbled a grade on his notes before passing on. Then there was Astronomy that night at midnight, followed by History of Magic the next morning.

Fortunately, Professor Stratton had taken a small amount of pity on them all and had pre-assigned them all an essay on their chosen Greek god or goddess for their final exam. This meant all the students who had been up at midnight for their Astronomy exam simply had to make their way to his classroom to hand it in that morning and then could return to their common rooms to catch up on sleep or revision.

Herbology was that afternoon. There seemed to be a small division growing in the Hufflepuffs after the incident at the event for Erica. Smith and his friends it seemed weren’t speaking to anyone who was remotely friendly to Jeremy.

Thursday was the final day of exams. The first one that morning was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin set up a practical exam as opposed to written; an obstacle course in the grounds where they had to defeat a grindylow in a paddling pool, pass a series of potholes full of redcaps, struggle through a small marsh and ignore a hinkypunk, and then climb into a large trunk and face a boggart.

“Excellent, Harriet,” Professor Lupin said cheerfully as Harriet climbed back out of the trunk. “Full marks.”

Harriet beamed and waited to watch the rest. Kieran had to skip the marsh portion on account of his leg, Professor Lupin let him write a short essay on the nature of hinkypunks instead. Ronnie meanwhile was fooled by the Hinkypunk and got stuck, needing to be rescued by Professor Lupin before the hinkypunk got to her. Hermione on the other hand burst out of the trunk in a panic, pointing back into the trunk and shrieking about how Professor McGonagall had told her she’d failed every exam and was going to have to repeat third year. Finally Marcus made it all the way through, though his impatience almost got the better of him while dealing with the redcaps. As redcaps lurked in places of bloodshed, they weren’t as put off by flame charms, and instead seemed attracted to them.

Ronnie was still teasing Hermione about her boggart when they paused at the entrance. There, standing at the top of the stairs to the entrance to the school, was Cornelius Fudge.

“Ah, hello Harriet,” Fudge said looking solemn. “And you, John,” he went on addressing her reluctant bodyguard.

“Minister,” Dawlish said in greeting. “Has something else happened?”

“Oh no, no nothing like that,” Fudge said. “Just making a scheduled check on the situation and well…” he sighed and looked off towards Hagrid’s cabin. “On a very unpleasant mission, indeed.”

He turned back to Harriet. “As I was coming here anyway, I was asked by the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures to act as the witness to the execution of a mad hippogriff.”

“The appeal’s already happened?” Ronnie asked, aghast.

“No, no,” Fudge said. “It’s scheduled for this afternoon.”

“Then you might not have to witness one after all, will you?” Ronnie declared. “The hippogriff might get off!”

Fudge began to respond but at that moment the door to the school opened and two men stepped out. One was so old and frail he looked as though he was going to poof into dust at the lightest touch. The other was strapping and middle-aged, with a thin black moustache.

“Dear oh dear, I’m getting too old for this,” the old man said in a voice that sounded as frail as he looked. He reminded Harriet of a still living Professor Binns. “Two o’clock, isn’t it, Fudge?”

“That’s right,” Fudge replied.

Harriet took the newcomers to be the Committee members Hagrid had written about. The moustached man was fingering something in his belt. Harriet felt her throat clench as she looked down and realized he was plucking one of the tips of a large, single-bladed axe on a long-handle. Even more ominous, right beside it hung a brutal looking, yet intricately engraved scythe.

Ronnie opened her mouth to say more but Hermione grabbed her arm and pulled her into the school.

“Why’d you stop me?” Ronnie asked. “This isn’t justice, this is just wrong! Fudge just admitted they don’t think Hagrid’s going to win the appeal!”

“Ronnie shut up,” Hermione hissed. Behind them, Dawlish was clearly trying to listen in.

They entered the common room, leaving Dawlish behind when Hermione finally explained. “Ronnie, Fudge is your father’s boss, you can’t go saying things like that to him. You could get your family in trouble,” Hermione explained. “We just have to have faith that if Hagrid can keep his head this time, they can’t possibly decide to execute Buckbeak.”

Harriet could tell Hermione didn’t really believe that. But there wasn’t time to dwell or worry. They had their final examinations to contend with. They went down to lunch and then Harriet and Ronnie headed off to Divination. They waited on the landing underneath the classroom as Professor Trelawney called them up one by one to crystal gaze.

It seemed to take ages. Harriet kept looking at her watch. Harriet felt even more aggravated when Professor Trelawney bypassed her in the list alphabetically. Neville looked as though he’d seen a ghost as he came down, and said he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone what he had seen, or he’d have a horrible accident.

“Typical,” Ronnie muttered as Neville left. “You know, Hermione’s right this time… Trelawney really is an old fraud.”

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed. “I was thinking… next year, wanna talk to Professor McGonagall about transferring? Maybe Muggle Studies…? Professor Spring seems so fun, and with your dad, and me having lived with Muggles we probably wouldn’t have to catch up much.”

“Yeah,” Ronnie said smiling. “Yeah I’d like that.”

Parvati came down next. She irritated everyone who remained by exclaiming how Professor Trelawney had said she had all the makings of a true seer. The next to be called was Marcus.

“Of course she’d save me for last,” Harriet muttered as Marcus climbed the ladder.

She sat in silence with Dawlish as Ronnie went up after Marcus, and finally climbed back down and Professor Trelawney called her name. Harriet ascended the ladder and entered the ever stifling common room. It was hotter than ever, with the windows and blinds closed, and the perfumed fire blazing.

Professor Trelawney was waiting at a small table with a crystal ball upon it right next to the fire. Harriet made her way over and sat. She wanted nothing more at this moment than for the exam to be over.

“If you would kindly gaze into the orb,” Professor Trelawney said in her mistiest voice, “and tell me what you see.”

Harriet gazed as told. As with every other time she’d crystal gazed before, she saw nothing but swirling mist.

“Well, what do you see?” Professor Trelawney asked.

Harriet decided it was best to fall back on the old Divination stand-by she and Ronnie had come up with that year, and pretend.

“Uh… a dark shape,” Harriet said.

“What does it resemble? Just relax dear, let the visions flow.”

The only thing on Harriet’s mind was Hagrid and the appeal.

“A hippogriff,” she said.

“Indeed!” Professor Trelawney gasped, looking very excited. “My dear girl, you may be receiving visions of poor Hagrid’s case before the Committee! Look closer, does it appear to have its head?”

“Yes,” Harriet said, almost defiantly.

“Are… are you sure?” Professor Trelawney asked, sounding disappointed. “No blood, no weeping Hagrid? It’s not writhing on the ground, a man standing over it raising an axe?”

“No!” Harriet said, disgusted. “It’s… it’s flying away, it’s escaped.”

Professor Trelawney sighed. “Well, I think we will leave it there, dear. I’m sure you tried your best.”

Relieved to have the exam finally be over, Harriet rose and picked up her bag, eager to depart. She had just reached the door when a harsh voice spoke from behind her.

“ _It will happen tonight_!”

Harriet spun around. Professor Trelawney was sitting rigid in her chair, her head tilted to the side, mouth sagging, eyes rolling.

“Uh, Miss?” Harriet asked.

Professor Trelawney did not respond. Harriet felt herself starting to panic. What if she was about to have a seizure? She went back for the door to summon Dawlish when Professor Trelawney spoke again. Her voice was hoarse and deep, completely unlike any time Harriet had heard her speak before.

“ _The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless. Abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight… the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with her servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight… before midnight… the servant… will set out…to rejoin… his master!_ ”

Professor Trelawney slumped again before her head jerked back up and she smiled at Harriet. “Oh, so sorry, my dear, I must have dozed off with the heat of the day.”

Her voice had gone back to normal. Harriet kept staring at Professor Trelawney, unable to think of a response.

“Is something wrong, dear?”

“Uh… you… you just said that the Dark Lord was going to rise again… that his servant was going to go back to him…”

Professor Trelawney blinked in surprise. “The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My dear girl that is nothing to joke about! Rise again, indeed…”

“But, but you just said it!”

“I think you must have dozed off too, my dear. I certainly would never predict anything as far-fetched as that!”

Harriet climbed back down the ladder. Kieran, Hermione, Ronnie, Dora, Marcus, and Scott were all there. All of them looked miserable. Harriet was about to tell them what had happened when the look on their faces stopped her. She didn’t need to ask. Hermione threw her arms around Harriet’s neck and broke down. Harriet hugged her back, feeling her own tears welling up. She let go of Hermione and Kieran handed her a note from Hagrid.

It was almost illegible with how much his hands had shaken. But unlike the previous note, there were no tear-marks on it.

 

 

_Lost appeal. Execution set for sunset. Nothing you can do. Don’t come down._

 

“We have to go,” Harriet said.

“We can’t,” Ronnie muttered, glaring at Dawlish. “We already asked…”

Harriet glared at him too but then remembered. Their silver-bullet for breaking the rules. She gave her friends a significant look and they headed off for the common room. There was a unanimous yet unspoken agreement amongst them to get Harriet’s cloak to go see Hagrid.

However, they were stopped up halfway back by Jeremy and Isabella. Jeremy was looking dreadful once more, heading in the direction of the hospital wing, Isabella struggling to help support him. Kieran, Scott and Marcus all exchanged looks and turned to the girls.

“You uh… you guys go do what you can for Hagrid, we’re gonna go help Jeremy,” Kieran said.

“O-okay,” Harriet said and watched as the boys hurried off after the departing Hufflepuffs.

They reached the common room and Harriet hurried up to the dormitory to fetch the cloak. However, she paused while passing the first year girls’ dormitory. She could hear sniffling and sobbing inside. She nervously pushed the door open.

“Hello?” she asked looking around.

The dorm was empty, except for Emma, sitting on her bed.

“Emma, what’s wrong?” Harriet asked, hurrying over.

Emma slowly turned and looked at Harriet with bright red, watery eyes. Her lip wobbled and she managed to speak in a croaky, cracking voice. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course,” Harriet said, sitting next to the willowy first year.

Emma sniffed and finally let it pour out.

“I can’t find Snuffles!” she wailed burying her head in Harriet’s shoulder. “He’s my puppy and I’ve been caring for him all year but he’s gone! He’s always been waiting in the little hidden spot in the wall since the first Quidditch match for me to bring him food and to help me feel better but he’s gone! I haven’t seen him since Sirius Black took Erica and what if he did something to Snuffles too!? What if Snuffles tried to stop him and he killed him!?”

“Oh Emma,” Harriet said hugging the girl tighter.

“He’s been so good and kind to me. He’s so gentle, he takes food right from my hand without biting and would play fetch and his foot would kick when I scratched his ears.”

At that point, Emma broke down and said no more. Harriet grimaced looking towards the door. She was running out of time.

“I’m sorry, love,” she said stroking Emma’s hair. “He sounds wonderful… I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

“You think so?” Emma asked.

“I know so,” Harriet said, feeling slightly dishonest. “The forest is a big place, I’m sure he’s out there. Who knows maybe…?” Harriet searched around for an explanation. “Maybe he found a nice girl doggy and maybe he’ll come back with puppies? So maybe you’ll get a bunch of Snuffles?”

Emma sniffled again. “Yeah… maybe… Thanks Harriet… and… don’t tell Dora… k?”

Harriet nodded. “I won’t, promise.”

Harriet hurried up to the common room and fetched the cloak. She took a little longer, changing into her hoodie she’d received from Kieran, the jean overalls she’d received from the McIntyres’ that summer, a plain white tee-shirt and her white tube-socks with the blue canvas trainers. She stuffed the cloak into the hoodie pouch and hurried off to the others.

“Why’d you change?” Dora asked.

“These shoes are quieter for sneaking past Dawlish,” Harriet said.

“Good idea,” Ronnie agreed.

Harriet pulled on the cloak and the other girls opened the portrait hole.

“Where’s Harriet?” Dawlish asked the three visible girls.

“In bed. She wasn’t feeling well knowing what’s about to happen to Buckbeak,” Dora said, making up the lie on the spot and delivering it flawlessly.

Dawlish grumbled. Harriet snuck along with the other girls and they broke into a run when they got far enough away, hurrying to get down to Hagrid’s. The entrance was still open, tired looking seventh years, just finishing their NEWTs, limping in from the grounds. Harriet supposed their Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT must have been a practical one as well. They ducked into a side corridor and all climbed under the cloak.

“You know, it’s kinda lucky the boys aren’t here,” Dora whispered as they waited. “We wouldn’t have fit with them under here.”

They watched as the last auror closed the door after the students filed inside. They waited until it sounded like the entrance hall was empty. There was the pattering of a last pair of feet, a slamming door, and all was silent.

“Are the aurors still there?” Ronnie asked.

“No, looks like they’ve gone in for dinner,” Harriet said.

“Okay, let’s try the door,” Dora whispered.

They crossed the entrance hall and Harriet pushed on the door. To her relief, it swung open.

“What the devil?” asked a gruff voice.

Harriet barely stopped herself from shouting in fright as an auror stepped into the doorway, looking around.

“Coulda swore I heard it click shut,” the other auror said, also studying it.

“Well it’s old,” the first auror said and put a hand on the door. “Just close it extra tight this time.”

Harriet took Dora’s hand and pulled. They rushed forward on tip toe as the auror went to push the great door closed. It closed shut with an ominous thud and the latch clicked shut behind them.

“That did it,” the auror said tugging on the door again.

“Yeah, just have to watch that in the future,” the other auror said.

Harriet gave a deep sigh of relief that was echoed by the other three. Silently, they crept down to Hagrid’s, keeping an eye out for anyone patrolling, winding their way slowly through the sea of signs that still dotted the lawn in front of the entrance. Finally, they were free enough they felt safe hurrying across the grounds.

They reached Hagrid’s cabin and Harriet knocked. Hagrid took a minute in answering, and Fang didn’t even bark. When Hagrid opened the door, Harriet’s chest clenched. Hagrid looked dreadful. He was very pale, and trembling. His clothes were wrinkled and he looked as though he’d not changed or washed for days. He smelled it too. If he’d been so depressed he couldn’t even manage to clean himself up for the appeal, no wonder he’d lost.

Hagrid looked around nervously.

“It’s us,” Harriet said. “We’re under the cloak. Let us in so we can take it off.”

“I told yeh not ter come,” Hagrid said, but he still stepped aside.

Harriet and the rest shuffled in and Hagrid shut the door behind them. Harriet pulled off the cloak and looked around. Hagrid’s dishes hadn’t been washed, his bed not been made. Fang was skulking near the table, his massive head drooping. Hagrid meanwhile did not look distraught or crying. Instead, he looked completely and utterly helpless.

“Tea?’ Hagrid offered, thought without much enthusiasm.

“Where’s… where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” Hermione asked.

“Outside in the pumpkin patch… thought he oughter see the trees and smell fresh air before…”

Hagrid’s hand trembled so much he dropped the jug of milk he was carrying.

“I’ll get it, Hagrid,” Hermione said and started cleaning the mess.

“Isn’t there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?” Harriet asked as Hagrid sat down and wiped his forehead. “Not even Dumbledore?”

“He’s tried… but he’s got no power ter override the Committee. Told ‘em Beaky’s alright, but you know Lucius Malfoy… threatened all the members I ‘spect. And the executioner, Macnair… he’s an old friend’r Malfoy’s… but it’ll be quick… and I’ll be berside ‘im…”

Hagrid swallowed. “Dumbledore’s gonna come down ter be with me while it… while he…” he sighed. “Said he wanted ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore…”

Hermione gave a little sob in the corner where she was getting another jug of milk. She turned back to Hagrid, not bothering to hide her tears anymore.

“We’ll stay with you too, Hagrid,” she said.

“No,” Hagrid said. “Yer teh go back up ter the castle, I told yeh I don’t want yer watchin’. Yer not supposed ter be down here anyway. If Fudge and Dumbledore catch yeh out ‘ere, ‘Arriet, yeh’ll be in big trouble.”

Hermione turned back to the tea, getting ready to pour another jug of milk. However, she let out a tiny shriek.

“Ro-Ronnie! I… I don’t believe it!” She exclaimed looking into the jug. “It’s… Scabbers!”

Ronnie gaped. “What? What are you talking about?”

Hermione hurried over with the milk-jug and upended it on the table. There was a little squeak and the clattering of little claws and with a little plop, Scabbers the rat slid down onto the table.

“Scabbers…?” Ronnie said. “Scabbers? What… what are you doing here?”

She picked up the squirming, frantic rat, holding him up to the light. Scabbers looked worse than ever. He was rail thin now, and big patches of fur had fallen out. Sure enough, one of his big-toes was missing on his back feet. He was writhing in Ronnie’s hands as though terrified out of his wits.

“It’s okay, Scabbers!” Ronnie said stroking the rat’s back soothingly. “There’s no cats here, nothing’s going to hurt you.”

At that moment, Hagrid rose and moved to the window. His skin had gone even paler than it was before.

“They’re comin’…”

Harriet, Dora, Ronnie and Hermione spun around. They went up to the window and looked out too. A group of men was walking towards them. Professor Dumbledore was in front, Cornelius Fudge beside him and the members of the Committee in tow.

“Yeh gotter go, now,” Hagrid said, ushering them to the back door. “They can’ find yeh here, go.”

Ronnie was still struggling with Scabbers as Dora fetched the invisibility cloak.

“I’ll let yer out the back way,” Hagrid said.

He shepherded them out the back door. Buckbeak was there, watching them from the pumpkin patch where he’d been tethered to the fence. He seemed to sense something was wrong, shuffling and tossing his head.

“’Sokay, Beaky, ‘sokay,” Hagrid said before turning back to the girls.

“Go on, get goin’. I don’t want yer hearing this, you got me? Nor seein’.”

“But Hagrid.”

“No,” he said more forcefully. “It’s bad enough already without you lot in trouble too. Go!”

There was nothing to be done. Dora threw the cloak over them all and there was a knock at his front door.

“Go quick. Don’t listen,” Hagrid said and turned back inside.

Beside her, Ronnie was still fighting with Scabbers. They moved as silently as they could past the cabin. They couldn’t quite make out the voices coming from inside the cabin as they snuck by.

Hermione ushered them along, pushing, desperate to get away from the scene. The sun was setting now, ruby-red over the trees to the west, with purple stretching over them. They made it a few yards away when Ronnie paused, fighting with Scabbers.

“Scabbers, stay put,” Ronnie muttered.

“Please Ronnie, let’s hurry,” Hermione moaned.

“It’s Scabbers, he won’t stop struggling.”

“Here,” Harriet said numbly. “I’ll take him.”

Ronnie handed over the struggling rat and Harriet managed to stuff him into the pouch of her hoodie. The rat did seem to quiet down once inside, though Harriet could still feel him trembling. The door opened again behind them and the voices became louder.

They started hurrying along again. There was a sudden silence in the voices behind them and they all stopped dead when they heard the unmistakable sound of a heavy axe thudding into wood.

Hermione staggered. “They did it,” she whispered, trembling. “I don’t believe it… they did it…”

Harriet’s mind went blank with shock. Dora’s face was full of horror and disbelief. Behind them, Hagrid gave out a loud howl.

“Hagrid,” Harriet said and automatically turned back.

“We can’t, Harriet,” Ronnie said taking Harriet’s arm. “He’ll be in worse trouble if they know we’ve been there.”

“How could they…” Hermione muttered.

“I… don’t know…” Dora croaked. She sounded on the verge of tears.

“C-come on,” Ronnie muttered.

They started toward the castle again. The sky seemed to get darker with every step. They made it almost half-way to the cabin when Harriet had to stop. Scabbers had begun struggling frantically again, trying to get out of her pouch.

“What is it?” Dora asked.

“Scabbers,” Harriet said simply. “He’s trying to get away again.”

“Here, I’ll take him back,” Ronnie said. She attempted to extricate the rat from Harriet’s pouch but yelped and jumped back, putting one of her fingers in her mouth.

“Ow! He bit me!” Ronnie exclaimed.

“Ronnie, quiet!” Hermione hissed. “Fudge will be coming back out in a minute!”

“What’s the matter with him?” Ronnie asked.

Harriet, however, spotted the problem. She could just make him out in the dying light. Low to the ground, slinking towards them, was Crookshanks.

“Crookshanks!” Hermione moaned. “No, Crookshanks! Go away!”

Crookshanks continued on, undaunted by his owner’s protests.

“No!” Harriet cried as the rat finally shot from her pouch, hit the ground and shot off in the opposite direction. Without thinking, Harriet started off after the rat, ducking out from under the cloak. Ronnie had already lost Scabbers once, and Hagrid had just lost Buckbeak. She wasn’t going to let another friend lose another pet if she could help it.

 _“Harriet!”_ Hermione groaned.

Harriet could hear the sound of the other girls running after her as she chased down the rat. Harriet leapt and managed to catch the rat in her outstretched hands, just as she would a Snitch. She winced as the flop knocked the wind out of her and she gasped trying to breath as she sat up, holding onto the scrambling rat. Meanwhile, Crookshanks had caught up and was pouncing at her hands trying to get at Scabbers.

“Get off,” Harriet managed to gasp.

Hermione, Ronnie and Dora skidded to stops next to her as Harriet feebly got to her feet and managed to put Scabbers back into her pouch. “Got him” she gasped, trying to get her breathing back.

“Quick, Harriet, back under the cloak,” Hermione panted. “Before Fudge and Dumbledore come back—”

Hermione cut herself off. Harriet heard it too. There was the rapid pounding of large, padded feet coming towards them. They spun around and saw it coming towards them. It was a massive, jet black, yellow-eyed dog.

Harriet and the others reached for their wands but it was too late. The dog sprang towards them, its front paws outstretched and its massive jaws open. Harriet, still winded, couldn’t cry out as the dog’s jaws closed on the hood of her hoodie, and jerked her backwards off her feet. She thudded onto her backside but had no time to react as the dog ran off, dragging her behind it as if she were weightless. She could only manage a wide-eyed look of shock at her friends as they started to run after her.

Harriet tried to punch the dog’s side, to pull its hair, anything to get it to let go, but the dog was relentless. Harriet managed to turn enough to see that the dog was dragging her towards the Whomping Willow. She started to panic now, flailing and trying to free herself. The branches began to flail but the dog moved too quickly for the swinging branches. It was now dragging her towards a large hole in the roots Harriet had never been close enough to notice.

She reached out and just managed to catch hold of one of the roots. Harriet finally managed to cry out, though this time in pain as it felt like the dog nearly pulled her arm out of its socket, but it let go of her hoodie. Harriet managed to pull herself up and look back at her friends. Ronnie got close but was knocked backwards by one of the swinging branches, as were Dora and Hermione.

Harriet cried out but was suddenly stifled. A hand had clamped over her mouth from behind. A thin, but strong hand that felt like how a skeleton’s would. In her shock, she let go of the root and the hand dragged her backward and her friends disappeared from view. Harriet struggled but there was a flash of light as the tip of her wand lit. But she hadn’t lit it. Her wand was now being held by someone else, who had hold of her tightly from behind.

Her assailant spun her around and Harriet found herself face to terrible face with none-other than Sirius Black. He looked every bit as horrible as his wanted posters. His face was as a skull covered in thin flesh. His beard was scraggly and unkempt, as was the rest of his matted, overlong hair. He wore poorly fitted clothes he’d undoubtedly stolen and a black and ragged cloak.

“Quiet, Harriet, I’m not going to—oh no you don’t!” Black cried.

He pointed Harriet’s wand down the tunnel they were now in and a jet of purple light shot off. There was a squeak and a popping noise. Black’s hand was clenched on Harriet’s arm like a vice as he pulled her down the tunnel in the direction of the fired spell.

Harriet was panicking again. After everything, Black had caught her. She wanted to be back in the castle. She wanted to be safe in bed. She wanted Aurochius there. She wanted Daniel there. She was never going to see her friends again, never going to see anyone she knew again. Black had won, her only choice was to keep fighting now until he decided to kill her. That had to be the only way.

“Stop struggling,” Black growled and Harriet shouted again as he tugged on her already sore arm. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to do anything to you. You’re not who I’m after.”

“What?” Harriet asked. “Then why did you drag me in here?” she growled, still struggling.

Black paused and bent down. He rose again holding up a small metal cage, and inside it, was Scabbers. A wild, manic grin broke out on Black’s face.

“Hello, Peter… thought you could run forever did you?” Black said.

His look was so bestial as he studied the rat that Harriet felt her sense of dread growing. He was a madman, completely deranged. How could she hope to escape him? She kicked at his shin and caught him hard. Black cried out and finally let go of her arm. She turned to dart for the end of the tunnel but Black was too quick.

There was a flash of light and Harriet tripped, landing hard on her chest again in the muddy ground. Black was on her at once, forcing her down on her stomach and hauling her hands behind her back.

“Let me go!” Harriet shouted but Black paid no mind and Harriet felt tight ropes being lashed around her wrists, tighter than anything she’d managed to do on her own. The ropes bit down and Harriet knew struggling out of them would be futile. Black pulled her up to her feet, spun her around, and hoisted her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” Harriet shouted, struggling as Black carried her away from the tunnel entrance.

“Quiet,” Black growled. “I’d hoped to get a hold of him without involving anyone else…”

“What have you done with Erica?” Harriet demanded, still trying to free her hands.

“She’s perfectly safe. Probably still studying for her OWLs.”

Harriet was dumbstruck. “What?” she asked.

“I’ve been helping her study for them so she wouldn’t go into them blind when I finally let her go,” Black replied as he continued carrying her off.

Harriet couldn’t handle it. Everything going on was insane. Black was helping Erica study for her OWLs? He’d kidnapped her now too although he said he didn’t want to, and he’d caught Scabbers in a cage and called him Peter. She looked around.

“Where’s the dog?” Harriet asked. “How did you get a Gurt Dog to work for you of all people?”

“You’re looking at him,” Black said. He grumbled. “And it’s not a Gurt Dog… it’s a Padfoot…”

Harriet blinked. “What?”

“I’m an animagus. I can turn into a Black Dog.”

“Oh…” Harriet said, feeling foolish. Then she blinked. “Wait, so you were the one with Emma all along!” Harriet shouted. “She trusted you! She called you Snuffles! And now she’s crying in her dorm room because she thinks you killed Snuffles!”

“Yes!” Black snapped, his temper obviously rising. “Yes I know! Not my brightest idea but I felt bad for scaring her at Halloween and the cat told me she was often alone and didn’t have many friends!”

Harriet blinked. She didn’t know how to process what was going on. Sirius Black was Snuffles, and he’d befriended Emma as a dog because he felt bad for scaring her. And he could talk to Crookshanks. This had to be another of Harriet’s nightmares. It just had to be. Buckbeak’s death, being kidnapped, everything. It was all just wrong.

Meanwhile, the tunnel seemed to go on forever. It felt like it was at least as long as the tunnel to Honeydukes. It wound around too, up and down, and Black was starting to breathe heavily from the effort of carrying Harriet so far.

“Ah, here we are,” Black said.

Harriet managed to look around enough to see they had reached the end of the tunnel. Black pushed on the roof of the tunnel and a trap-door just like the one under Honeydukes opened up. Black lifted Harriet up, sitting her on the edge before climbing up himself. He pulled Harriet up to her feet and kicked the trap-door shut behind them.

Harriet looked around the room they were now in. It was disorderly and dusty. Most of the paper had peeled off the walls, and every piece of furniture had been smashed and broken, though some had been repaired and looked recently used. There was a stack of school books on the nearby coffee table, and scattered pieces of parchment.

“Welcome to the Shrieking Shack,” Black said, gesturing around.

“The-the Shrieking Shack?” Harriet asked looking around.

“The one and only,” Black said and took Harriet’s arm again, leading her towards the staircase.

“But the ghosts?”

“There are no ghosts here. Never were. But that’s a story for another day,” Black said enigmatically and pulled Harriet after him, leading her up the stairs.

Harriet grunted and kept struggling, refusing to give in that easily. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked, defiantly. “Turn me into your Dark Mistress or something?”

Black looked back at Harriet with a flabbergasted expression on his skull-like face. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“Um,” Harriet muttered, caught off guard by Black’s reaction. “It’s… what everyone thinks you’re doing?”

Black shook his head and continued up the stairs. They reached the top and turned left, pausing in front of a door. He unlocked it and pushed it open.

“Hey, Sirius,” said a familiar voice that at once filled Harriet with relief, and yet more shock. “You’re back earlier than you said, did you catch him this time?”

It was Erica, but she didn’t sound upset. In fact, she sounded pleasantly surprised. What was going on?

Black grinned again, that same diabolical grin. “Yes… yes I did…”

“You did!” Erica exclaimed and stepped into the doorway. She was still wearing her uniform, though it looked a bit lived in. Her shirt was untucked, and she’d removed her tie and shoes.

Erica’s smile vanished in a moment the second she saw Harriet.

“Oh, Sirius,” she said and gave him a disappointed look.

To Harriet’s surprise, Black now looked rather awkward.

“Ah, well, it uh… it wasn’t exactly how I planned on it happening but… I had to roll with what came at me…”

“Erica… what’s going on?” Harriet asked.

Erica grimaced. “Well… now we’ve _both_ been kidnapped… so there’s that…”

Sirius pulled Harriet into the room. He tossed the cage onto the bed carelessly, Scabbers squeaking as he was rattled around inside it.

“Sirius!” Erica exclaimed rushing over to the rat. “Don’t do that!”

“What’s it matter? I’m going to kill him anyway,” Sirius said as he pulled over a chair and pushed Harriet into it.

Harriet grunted and glared up at him as Black turned back to Erica.

“Well, Erica, it’s been fun getting to know you the past couple of weeks… but… my mission’s over… I’ve caught him at last…”

“So, you’ll let us go now?” Erica asked.

Harriet was relieved to hear a distinct tone of relief in her voice at the prospect of release. If Harriet hadn’t known better when Erica had first spoken, she and Sirius were friends now.

“Yes, please sit on the bed,” Black said. He jabbed Harriet’s wand at the bed and a pile of ropes appeared on it.

Erica groaned. “Do you have to?” she asked.

“Yes.” Black said, simply.

Harriet looked back and forth between them, transfixed. Erica sighed and sat as Black picked up some of the ropes. As Harriet watched, Black took one of the coils and tied Erica’s hands behind her back as he had to Harriet. But he went further, tying more around Erica’s chest, pinning down her arms, then her ankles and above her knees.

In spite of it all, despite the danger and the shocks of the attack and being dragged into the tunnel, Harriet felt an odd sensation in her stomach as she watched. It wasn’t disgust, it was more akin to the feeling she got whenever Wood praised her. Harriet looked away as Black forcibly stuffed a rag into Erica’s mouth and picked up another white one, pulling it straight and pulling the middle tight between Erica’s teeth, tying the ends tight behind her head.

“Omw, nomt smoo roumff,” Erica grunted into the gag Sirius had tied on her.

“Sorry,” Black said as he turned to Harriet. “Old habits.”

Harriet felt different now. And she wasn’t sure she necessarily liked, nor understood the feeling. She had felt defiant, but now after seeing Erica being restrained, she felt less impulse to escape. Less of an urge to get away. It was partly helplessness, but something else. But she didn’t want to be helpless. Or did she? She felt her head sway a bit as she was just so overwhelmed.

“Shhhhhh,” Black whispered as he kneeled in front of Harriet. “Just relax, I’m not going to hurt you, you or Erica. You’ll both be back at the school in no time. I doubt it’ll even take twenty minutes.”

Harriet swallowed and watched, transfixed, as Black took more of the rope and tied her ankles as he had tied Erica’s. He was much better at it than Harriet was at tying her own. He then tied her knees too before moving around behind Harriet.

“Feet back,” Black ordered.

In spite of all the synapses in her brain telling her to resist, Harriet slowly moved her feet back under the chair. She felt Black take hold of them and another rope slip through the bonds, tying them off to her bound wrists. He finished with more rope around her chest too as he’d done with Erica, tying her down to the chair.

“Don’t worry, girls,” Black said, conjuring up another rag and taking Harriet’s green scarf from her hair. He stuffed the rag in Harriet’s mouth. “Once I’m far enough away with the rat, I’ll send a note to the school on where to find you.”

He tied Harriet’s scarf down tight over her mouth. He was definitely better at that than Harriet had been too. Harriet kicked herself for thinking that way but she couldn’t help it. Black looked relieved and stepped back over to the bed, picking up the cage with Scabbers in it.

“Erica, it’s been a delight getting to know you. I hope your OWLs go well and you remember all I taught you.”

Erica rolled her eyes. “Fmnks fmor thme lemmfums,” she muttered into her gag.

“And Harriet…” Black said turning slowly to Harriet. His face looked strained, as if holding back a great burst of emotion. “I’m… I’m sorry we had to meet this way… under these circumstances… I wish I could really explain—”

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

Black was thrown forward into the room, crying out and dropping the cage. Scabbers squeaked in fright and pain as the cage bounced on the floor and Harriet’s wand went flying. It made an arc and was caught by—

“DMORA!” Harriet cried into her gag.

Dora was standing in the open doorway, her face red with rage, her eyes burning. Her wand was trained on Black, Harriet’s own wand in her other hand. Behind her, Hermione and Ronnie had their own wands trained on Black. Hermione lowered hers and rushed past Dora to Harriet, attempting to find the knots to release her.

Black meanwhile managed to roll over, grunting in pain. He looked up at Dora, squinting. There was a large bump forming on his forehead where it’d hit the floor and he looked to be in a daze.

“No… it can’t be you…” Black muttered. “Jessica?”


	26. The Marauders

 “There are some bonds of friendship that can never be broken.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

A dumbstruck look passed over Dora’s face. “Jessica?” she asked, blinking. “No, it’s Dora… Jessica’s my mother.”

Black shook his head as if shaking off a fly. “You… you look just like her…”

“Don’t listen to him, Dora,” Ronnie said keeping her wand trained on Black. Dora’s own had been faltering from her surprise at Black’s statements.

Black gave his head another shake and touched the spot on his forehead, wincing. Scabbers meanwhile was frantically struggling in his cage, gnawing on the thin bars. Hermione was fumbling with the knots still. Harriet grunted into her gag.

“Oh, sorry Harriet,” Hermione said, pulling down the scarf. Harriet spat out the thick rag and worked her jaw.

“Thanks. How did you get past the Whomping Willow?” she asked as Hermione resumed trying to untie her.

“It was Crookshanks,” Ronnie said, bending down to pick up Scabbers in his cage; inspecting it trying to find a way to free her rat.

At that moment, the ginger cat trotted in, quite casually, hopping up on the bed next to Erica and purring as he nuzzled her elbow.

“Little traitor,” Black muttered but the cat paid him no mind, purring away.

“He pressed a knot on the trunk and the tree just… stopped…” Hermione explained, finally managing to free Harriet’s hands. She looked around. “Where’d the dog go?”

Harriet pulled her wrists back around, rubbing them where the ropes had been and stretched her legs out before starting to wriggle her shoulders up and down, helping Hermione pull the ropes around her chest up off over her head.

“He’s the dog,” Harriet said, glaring at Black. “He’s an animagus.”

Dora glared even more angrily at Black. “It was you… it was you all along, wasn’t it…? You used my little sister to get secrets into the school, didn’t you? Admit it!” Dora shouted, her face reddening.

Black looked up at her with an even more pained look on his face, but Harriet somehow didn’t think it was from the bump on his forehead.

“You knew about Emma and the dog?” Harriet asked.

Dora shrugged. “She’s always wanted one. And I suspected she was up to something all year… she’s my sister, after all.”

“You’re a mess,” Hermione said, taking in Harriet’s clothes before hugging her tight. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I’m alright,” Harriet said. “And you three should talk.”

Harriet was just now taking in the other girls’ appearances. They were all bruised and bloodied from where they’d attempted to get through the Willow’s savaging branches.

Black attempted to get to his feet but Ronnie stepped forward and kicked him hard in the chest. Having spent two summers learning to play football and becoming an experienced goalkeeper, this was no light blow. Black sprawled back on the floor, gasping and clutching his chest. Crookshanks gave a low growl and his hackles raised.

Harriet bent down to untie her own ankles and knees as Hermione moved over to free Erica.

“His knife,” Erica said after Hermione removed her gag. “He has a big knife in his pocket.”

“Don’t move,” Dora said, stepping hard on Black’s chest and pinning him down while Hermione rummaged nervously in Black’s cloak for the knife.

Hermione drew it out, holding it between her thumb and forefinger like it was something diseased. It looked just like the knife Marcus had described Black holding the night he’d broken into the boys’ dormitory.

Harriet got shakily to her feet and Ronnie moved over to her, helping her up. Dora turned to toss Harriet’s wand to her. Harriet caught it and Dora smiled. Then it happened.

Dora was distracted just long enough for Black to swing and arm down, catching her leg that wasn’t on his chest. Dora cried out, losing her balance and tumbling to the floor. Black was on her in an instant. He dragged her up, taking her wand and putting it to Dora’s throat, holding her in front of him.

“No…” Black said, his voice trembling with rage. “I’ve waited too long, hunted for too long… you’re not going to take this away from me… you’re not going to cost me my revenge! I’m not going to be stopped by a handful of teenage girls!”

Black’s face had gone manic again as he looked between the four other girls in the room.

“Sirius, this is insane!” Erica said, rubbing her own wrists. “Just tell them! Tell them the truth! Tell everyone the truth! You have the proof now! You can just turn him in and be free! You don’t have to do this!”

Harriet had her wand trained on Black. Her own sense of rage was welling up now as she looked at the gaunt face. She raised her wand, trying to keep a bead right between his eyes. A new sensation, a strange and unpleasant one, was welling up inside Harriet.

This was it, this was the moment. She was here, face to face with the man who had sold her parents out to Lord Voldemort. The man who had been her father’s best friend until he betrayed them. Who’d killed thirteen people with a single curse. Who’d used one of her best friends’ little sisters. Who’d kidnapped Erica. Who now had a wand to that same best friends’ throat.

“It’s too late for that, Erica,” Black said. He held out a hand to Ronnie. “Give me the rat…”

Ronnie blinked. “What the hell do you want Scabbers for?” she asked.

Harriet wasn’t really listening. She was too busy imagining her spell connecting with Black’s forehead, watching him crumble, lifeless, like her parents. Avenged.

“Because he’s the one… the traitor…” Black snarled.

That word seemed to snap Harriet to her senses. There was an awkward silence that was punctuated by a creaking floorboard downstairs.

Black’s eyes widened at the sound and he spun towards the door. Hermione at the same time cried out.

“WE’RE UP HERE! IT’S SIRIUS BLACK! QUICK!”

Black shifted his grip on Dora, but it was Dora’s turn to get the jump on Black. She buckled her knees and managed to duck out of his grasp. Black was wide open and Harriet acted without thinking.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” she cried and this time Dora’s wand sprang from Black’s hand and spiralled towards Harriet instead.

Harriet caught it and stared in disbelief. That hadn’t been the spell she’d meant to use. She’d meant something dangerous, something to hurt Black, to kill him. Why had that been the spell she’d used by instinct?

Dora scrambled away from Black and at that moment, both Professor Lupin and Daniel burst through the door, their own wands drawn.

Warm relief swept over Harriet at the sight of them as Daniel trained his wand on Black, his hand trembling, looking even more furious than Dora had been. Professor Lupin looked at the girls and warm relief spread over his face.

“You’re alive,” he said, breathing heavily, clearly having run quite a ways, as he looked at Erica.

“Where is he, Sirius…?” Daniel snarled. “Where’s… Peter…?”

Harriet blinked. Black had called Scabbers, Peter. But who could they be talking about?

Black raised a shaky hand and pointed it at Ronnie. No, not Ronnie. He was pointing at Scabbers. Professor Lupin bent down a bit, squinting at the rat.

“But… why hasn’t he shown himself…? Why has he stayed in hiding so long unless—”

Professor Lupin’s eyes widened and Daniel finally took his eyes off Black, though his wand didn’t falter. Understanding was passing between Daniel and Professor Lupin, though Harriet had no idea what it could be.

“Unless… it was him…” Daniel said slowly looking back at Black. “You switched without telling us… didn’t you…?”

Black’s eyes were moving between Professor Lupin’s and Daniel’s. Very slowly, he nodded.

“Daniel, Professor Lupin,” Harriet asked, interrupting. “What’s going—”

Harriet didn’t get to finish. Ignoring Harriet’s question, Daniel lowered his wand and both he and Professor Lupin stepped up to Black and embraced him as two brothers would embrace a long-lost third.

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Hermione shouted.

She was on her feet, pointing at Professor Lupin and Daniel, wild-eyed and frantic. “You! You!”

“Hermione—” Professor Lupin said calmly, holding up his hands.

“You and him! Both of you!”

“Hermione, please calm down,” Daniel said.

“I never told anyone! I’ve been covering up for you when I should have said all along!”

“Hermione, you have to listen to us, please!” Professor Lupin said, beseeching.

Harriet felt her sense of rage growing. White hot anger filling her mind as she looked at the two men, Professor Lupin and Daniel, men who she had been slowly coming to regard as long-lost uncle and father respectively. Betrayed.

“I TRUSTED YOU!” Harriet cried, her voice cracking with emotion. “And all this time you’ve been his friend!”

Professor Lupin and Daniel both looked staggered. Daniel looking the most wounded.

“You’re wrong,” Professor Lupin said. “Neither Daniel nor I have been Sirius’ friend for twelve years. But…” he looked back at Sirius. “But we are, now… please, let us explain.”

“No, Harriet!” Hermione shouted. “Don’t trust him! He’s been helping Black into the castle! He’s been trying to convert you to the Dark Arts too! He’s a werewolf!”

Silence filled the room at this pronouncement. Professor Lupin’s face had gone very pale, though he looked calm. Daniel however was glaring at Hermione, as if deeply offended by what she’d said.

“Not at all up to your usual standards, Hermione,” Professor Lupin said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Only one out of three, that time. I have not been helping Black into the castle, nor has Daniel. In fact, Daniel has been leading the efforts to find Black since it was apparent he was in the area. Harriet, the night you saw Sirius in the grounds, before the Quidditch match, did you also see a big cat? Following the dog, as if hunting it?”

Harriet blinked. How had Professor Lupin known that?

“Y-yes?” Harriet said.

“That was me…” Daniel said.

“You?” Harriet asked, stunned. “You’re an animagus, too?”

“Yes,” Daniel said.

Harriet blinked processing this information. She remembered how tired Daniel had looked the morning of the match. It was more information that seemed utterly crazy, and yet all seemed to fit.

“And, of course neither of us want to turn Harriet to the Dark Arts. In fact, I’m fairly certain that we can now verify that Sirius has no such intentions either. However…” Professor Lupin shivered. “I will not deny, that I am a werewolf…”

He turned a pained face to Hermione. “How long have you known?”

“Ages,” Hermione said. “I was first suspicious during Professor Snape’s essay… then I asked Professor Stratton about it at Christmas to verify…”

“Ah, well, Severus will be delighted,” Professor Lupin said. “He set that essay hoping someone would figure it out. Was it the lunar charts? Or did you realize my boggart was the moon?”

“Both,” Hermione said.

Professor Lupin gave a little mirthless laugh. “You’re the cleverest witch of your age, Hermione… bar none,” he said.

“No I’m not,” Hermione argued. “If I was, I would have told everyone. Is Professor Stratton in on this too? Is that how he knew?”

“Not at all,” Professor Lupin said. “And if you think Desmond is the only one who knows, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“In fact, if you think Remus is the only werewolf at Hogwarts, you’re equally sorely mistaken,” Daniel said.

“Dumbledore hired you, when he knew you were a werewolf?” Ronnie asked. “Is he mad?”

“There’s more of you?” Erica asked. Though her question was more fascinated interest than shock.

“Indeed. In fact, I’m surprised Desmond did not tell you about himself when he told you about me…”

“He’s a werewolf too!?” Hermione gasped. “But, but he was never ill at the full moon! Not once!”

“Of course he wasn’t,” Daniel said. “He’s a true wolf. Born from a long line of werewolves going back thousands of years. He has complete control over the condition because it runs in his family. He doesn’t even need the full moon to transform. And he can resist transforming if he tries hard enough during a full moon. Instead of being drained by the full moon and the transformations, Desmond is rejuvenated by them. It’s a complete symbiotic relationship with the bacteria. But normal humans cannot handle the effects, and it acts more as a parasite, slowly draining them. Normal humans who receive the bacteria through bites from true wolves or other human werewolves are usually referred to as… well—”

“ _Bitten_ …” Professor Lupin filled in, bitterly

“Yes… bitten wolves,” Daniel said. “Though most of their kind consider that a borderline derogatory term…”

“But, I’ve never read anything about different types of werewolves. Never!” Hermione spluttered.

Professor Lupin grimaced. “No, you wouldn’t have. They go to great pains to keep themselves legend only. About a hundred years ago, at the end of the Werewolf Wars, Desmond was one of the primary negotiators for peace with Albus. As part of the agreement, true wolves would remain in hiding, not having to register for the Werewolf Registry… in exchange, they were to work in secret to keep bitten wolves in check,” he sighed. “And that is why Desmond is working at Hogwarts now, and why he came to work at Hogwarts all those years ago when I first began attending… to keep me in check when I transform… When he’s not teaching here, he acts as an intermediary between non-human and part human species, working to broker peace during conflicts as well as preventing them from happening.”

“A hundred years ago?” Dora asked. “I can see Dumbledore being that old, but—”

Daniel gave a little snort. “I don’t think Dumbledore’s even half as old as Desmond is.”

“Well, in that general area,” Professor Lupin said.

Harriet’s mind was working overtime. This was all absurd, wasn’t it? And yet, she remembered the way Professor Stratton’s eyes had glinted the night of the Sorting. And then the night that Aurochius and the rest had first come to Hogwarts.

“Wait, that’s why the fauns kept calling Professor Stratton “Ambassador” isn’t it?” Harriet asked.

“Yes indeed,” Professor Lupin said. “Though as officially he does not exist, he doesn’t like to parade that information in front of people like the Minister of Magic.”

“Then… Jeremy’s a bitten wolf, too?” Hermione asked in a small voice.

Professor Lupin shook his head.

“No. No, Jeremy is like Desmond. But he was a late-bloomer… the first transformation typically happens much earlier in childhood, around the time magic first shows itself. In fact, it was thought the condition had not passed to Jeremy until he had his first transformation during Christmas of the previous school year. The sort of werewolf equivalent of a squib. I imagine hormones and puberty finally coaxed it out of him.”

Harriet’s memory banks kicked into drive again. She remembered. Jeremy had come back from the Christmas holidays looking ragged, and how he’d brushed off both Harriet and Isabella, and Harriet had thought he had started turning against her.

“But why does he get ill, too?” Hermione asked.

“Because he’s still young,” Professor Lupin said. “He hasn’t fully adjusted… had he gone through his first transformation when he was supposed to he would be handling it better by now, but I’m sure within a few years he will be just as happy and healthy at every full moon as Professor Stratton is now.”

Harriet was distracted by Black at that moment, who wearily crossed over to the bed and flopped down on it on his back, burying his face in one of his hands. Crookshanks nuzzled up to him now, purring.

“It’s… it’s why Professor Dumbledore hired me this year…” Professor Lupin said, himself sinking onto the chair Harriet had been tied to. “To counsel Jeremy on the effects; how to deal with them and cope until he grows into the changes. And like I said… why Desmond returned as well…”

“BUT INSTEAD YOU WERE HELPING HIM!” Harriet cried out, pointing at Black. She didn’t know where her renewed anger was coming from.

“We have _not_ been helping Sirius,” Professor Lupin said. “If you can please just give us a chance to explain… here.”

He took his wand back out of his belt and actually held the handle out to Harriet. Harriet took it, suspiciously at first, but Lupin made no move to attack or otherwise and let her take it. Daniel in turn held his out to Hermione.

“There, you’re armed, we’re not. Now please, let us explain.”

“Okay then,” Harriet said, eyeing Professor Lupin, Black, and Daniel. “If you haven’t been helping him, how did you know we were here?”

“The Map of course,” Professor Lupin said. “The Marauder’s Map. We were in my office examining it.”

Harriet blinked. Something about the way Professor Lupin had so casually mentioned the map by name caught her attention.

“Wait… you know I’m the one who turned it in, don’t you?”

“Of course I knew, Harriet,” Professor Lupin said. “I’ve been your teacher for a year now, do you think I didn’t recognize your handwriting at once?”

Harriet flushed, suddenly feeling very stupid.

“But I was very proud of you for doing so,” Daniel said. His voice was so sincere that Harriet blushed even brighter with a swell of pride in spite of all that was going on and her suspicions.

“And you didn’t need the instructions either,” Professor Lupin said, chuckling bitterly.

“Why not?” Harriet asked.

“Because we wrote it,” Daniel said.

“You?!” Harriet gasped.

“Yes,” Professor Lupin said. “I’m Moony. Daniel here is Paws. Sirius is Padfoot. Your father was Prongs, and _Peter_ —” he eyed the cage darkly, “was Wormtail… anyway, the important thing is, we were watching it closely tonight, because we thought you might sneak out to see Hagrid, and knowing Dawlish is—”

“A buffoon,” Daniel muttered.

“Uh, naïve,” Professor Lupin corrected. “He takes his work seriously, but he’s ambitious and expects people to adhere to the law as he does. This leaves him rather susceptible to deceptions. Anyway.”

Professor Lupin rose and paced the rug. “You might have been wearing your father’s old cloak, Harriet—”

“H-how do you know about the cloak, too?”

Professor Lupin waved an impatient hand. “The number of times all of us hid under it with James during our adventures. The point is, even if you’re wearing the cloak, you show up on the map. We watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut.”

“I thought they had you at the door,” Daniel interjected.

“Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid,” Professor Lupin went on as though Daniel hadn’t spoken. “But this time… there were five of you.”

“What?” Dora asked. “No there were just four of us.”

“I couldn’t believe it… I thought the map must of have been malfunctioning, how could Peter have been with you?”

“No one else was with us,” said Harriet.

“Oh yes, he was… and then we saw another dot running fast towards you, labelled _Sirius Black_ ,” Daniel said. “We saw him collide with you and drag you and Peter into the Whomping Willow.”

Harriet glanced at the rat. He must have been referring to Scabbers, as Black had also called Scabbers “Peter”, but who was Peter? Then she realized who they all must be referring to.

“You…” she looked at Professor Lupin and Daniel. “You can’t seriously think that Scabbers is—”

“Yes,” Black snarled from the bed, sitting up and glaring at the cage in Ronnie’s hands. “That’s exactly who he is…”

“But, it’s Scabbers,” Ronnie said, backing away slowly. “He’s just a rat.”

“No, he’s not,” Daniel said darkly.

“He’s a wizard, Ronnie,” Professor Lupin said.

“An animagus… by the name of Peter Pettigrew…” Black said.

This pronouncement was met by a very awkward silence.

“You’re all mental,” Ronnie declared.

“That’s ridiculous,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, Peter Pettigrew is dead!” Harriet said, pointing at Black. “He killed him twelve years ago!”

Black snarled. “I meant to… but little Peter got the better of me, but not this time… not this time!”

Black lunged towards Ronnie who cried out and backed into the wall. Professor Lupin and Daniel both managed to catch Sirius by the arms and haul him back away from Ronnie and Scabbers.

“No, Sirius!” Daniel shouted.

“You can’t just do it like that, we need to explain!”

“We can explain after!” Black growled. “His corpse will be enough explanation!”

“You’re not going to kill him, Sirius!” Daniel snarled and pushed Sirius forcibly back down on the bed.

“They’ve got a right to know everything,” Professor Lupin said. “He’s been Ronnie’s pet for years. There are parts of it I don’t understand yet either.”

“Nor me,” Daniel admitted. “And Harriet… Sirius…” he knelt in front of Black and put a hand on Black’s shoulder. “You owe Harriet the truth, Sirius… about what happened that night… about who really did it…”

Black seemed to come to his senses.

“Alright… but make it quick… I’ve waited twelve years… I won’t wait much longer…”

“You’re all nutters,” Ronnie said, coming to her senses as well. “I’m off!”

“Please, Ronnie.” It was Erica this time. “Please wait and hear them out…”

Ronnie paused, and finally turned back around. “Fine…”

“Good… now… please keep a tight grip on Peter while I—”

“HE’S NOT PETER! HE’S SCABBERS!” Ronnie bellowed.

“There were witnesses who saw Black kill Pettigrew!” Harriet said. “A whole street full of them!”

“They didn’t’ see what they thought they saw,” Black snarled.

“Yes… everyone thought that Sirius killed Peter… as did I until I saw the map tonight,” Professor Lupin said. “Because the map never lies, Harriet. Peter is alive, and Ronnie is holding him.”

Harriet shook her head. This was getting hard to grasp again. There was no way that Scabbers could be Pettigrew. She was sure that Black could believe that, he’d spent twelve years in Azkaban, it must have unhinged him after all. But why were Professor Lupin and Daniel playing along? Maybe it was a trick? Maybe they were trying to talk Black down; into surrendering?

“P-Professor Lupin,” Hermione said. “Scabbers can’t be Pettigrew… he just can’t be…”

“And why not?” Professor Lupin asked. He sounded as casual as if it was a lesson and Hermione had spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

“Because… because people would know if Pettigrew was an animagus… Professor McGonagall taught us about Animagi, and I looked her up doing my homework, and the ministry only has seven recorded animagi this century, and Pettigrew wasn’t one of them.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t on there either, I expect?” Daniel said. “Nor was Sirius, or Harriet’s father?”

“Well… no…” Hermione said.

Daniel chuckled. “Careful Hermione, that’s borderline Dawlish thinking. Just because you won’t break the law, doesn’t mean others won’t.”

“The ministry does keep a close watch on animagi, yes. But they never knew there were four unregistered animagi running around Hogwarts.”

“Hurry up, Remus…” Black snarled.

“Alright, Sirius, alright. But I’ll need your help… you see, I only know how it began…”

Professor Lupin sighed looking around the room. However, at that moment there was a creak and the door to the room slowly swung open on its own as if by a breeze. Everyone stared at it and Lupin stepped up to it, looking around.

“No one here…”

“Well it’s the Shrieking Shack,” Dora muttered. “It’s kinda, you know, haunted?”

“It’s not,” Daniel said. “Never was.”

“No…” Professor Lupin agreed. “You see, Dora, the Shrieking Shack was never haunted. The screams, howls, and breaking furniture that the villagers used to hear were… well… me…”

He sighed and brushed aside his prematurely grey hair. “That’s where all of this starts… with my becoming a werewolf. None of what’s happening now would have happened at all if I hadn’t been bitten… or so foolhardy…”

“Heh, all of us share in that last one,” Daniel said.

Ronnie opened her mouth to speak but Hermione, Dora, and Erica all shushed her as Professor Lupin continued.

“I was very young when I received the bite… I only just barely survived with my life. My parents tried everything, but there’s still no cure for Lycanthropy. It can only be tempered by the Wolfsbane potion that Severus has been making for me, and that’s a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, so I keep my normal mind as a true-wolf does, and can ride out the full moon safely in my office, a threat to no one.”

“Really?” Black said raising his eyebrows. “That woulda simplified things back then.”

“Yeah, but it would have cut down on the adventures dramatically,” Daniel said.

Black smiled, an altogether different smile than he’d shown before. It almost made his skull-like face look human once more. In fact, if he hadn’t been so thin, it would have been almost boyish.

“Anyway,” Professor Lupin went on. “Before the potion was invented, I became a fully-fledged monster once a month. No parent was going to want me at Hogwarts where I could injure their children. A worry they were right to have…”

“Remus…” Daniel said but Professor Lupin ignored him.

“My parents had given up on the prospect of me attending Hogwarts, until Professor Dumbledore became headmaster. He was sympathetic… he came to my house… he spoke with my parents… he played a game with me… he told us of his plans to secure the school… to take precautions for my, and others’ safety.”

He sighed again. “I told you months ago that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came ot Hogwarts… the truth is it was planted because I had come to Hogwarts. Dumbledore set it all up… he created the tunnel to this house… he sealed the house to prevent other people from getting in and me from getting out, then planted the Whomping Willow over the tunnel entrance to keep anyone from getting in while I was dangerous. And then of course he hired Desmond. All of it was to protect me and the school.”

Harriet wasn’t sure what Professor Lupin was getting at, but she couldn’t help but listen with rapt attention. Even Ronnie was listening close now, her mouth hanging open.

“It… it is very painful when a bitten-wolf transforms,” Professor Lupin explained. “And as I was separated from other humans to bite, I would bite and scratch myself instead, when I wasn’t tearing apart the furniture. I created such a racket the villagers thought the house was full of violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged that rumour, and it clung on so strongly that even to this day, none of the villagers dare approach the house.”

“That’s why Scott couldn’t get in,” Hermione said, more to herself than anyone.

“Nor Fred and George,” Ronnie chimed in.

“Of course not,” Professor Lupin said. “But, in spite of all that… I was the happiest I had ever been in my life. Because for the first time in my life, I had friends… great friends... Sirius Black,” he said gesturing to Black. “Daniel Dusk, Peter Pettigrew, and of course, James Potter, Harriet… your father…”

Professor Lupin grimaced and went on. “The problem was… it’s very difficult to have a friend who is a werewolf and not figure it out eventually.”

“Which we did,” Daniel chimed in again.

Professor Lupin finally gave a hint of a smile. “Yes. You did. Though it was not for a lack of trying.”

“No, what was that line you kept giving us at first?” Black asked.

“His mother was ill,” Daniel replied.

“Oh yeah!” Black replied.

Professor Lupin chuckled. “Well, long story short, they did work it out, but they did not desert me after all. Instead, they did something for me that not only made my transformations more bearable, but… the best times of my life.”

“What?” Harriet asked.

“We became animagi,” Daniel replied.

“Yes,” Professor Lupin said. “It took them the better part of three years to do it. Your father, Sirius, and Daniel were the cleverest students in the school—”

“Right, because you never beat us in any exam,” Daniel quipped.

“Or all of them” Black added.

Harriet shook her head. The level of familiarity that Professor Lupin, Daniel, and Sirius Black were showing was freaking her out quickly. It just didn’t seem right, and yet their interactions were so natural…

“Well, anyway,” Professor Lupin said. “Lucky they were so clever, as the animagus transformation can go horribly wrong, which is why the Ministry keeps such a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get of course. But finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will.”

“But how did that help?” Hermione asked.

“Well you see, a bitten werewolf is only a threat to humans. This meant they couldn’t keep me company as humans. So instead, they became animals. They would sneak out of the castle using James’ cloak. Peter, as the smallest, would press the knot and freeze the tree. Then they would transform, and slip into the tunnel after me. And under their influence, I became less… wolfish… I still transformed, but I did not seem quite so monstrous in my mind.”

Professor Lupin paused and took a deep breath. “This… opened many, er, exciting new possibilities to us. Soon, we even started leaving the Shrieking Shack and exploring the grounds. We were shadowed by Desmond everywhere we went, but we pretended not to know he was there. But soon, we knew more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than any student before or since I think. And that was how we came to write the Marauder’s Map, and sign it with our nicknames.”

“What sort of animal did—” Harriet started to aske but was cut off by Erica, who had lost some of her excitement and now sounded reproving.

“That was still so dangerous! You could still have given them the slip and attacked someone!”

“Yes… that still haunts me to this day…” Professor Lupin said.

“Me too,” Daniel muttered.

“There was the three of us and Desmond lurking about. I think we were fine,” Black said.

Professor Lupin ignored him. “We did have some near misses… but we were young and foolish… too carried away with our own cleverness… I did sometimes feel guilty about betraying Professor Dumbledore’s trust of course. He had let me into Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking all of the rules he had set up to keep myself and others safe. And not only that, I had led other students to break the law in becoming animagi illegally.”

“Hey,” Daniel snapped. “You don’t get to blame yourself for that. That was our idea.”

“Yes… well… either way, I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next adventure.  And I haven’t changed…”

Professor Lupin’s face hardened and his voice filled with self-disgust. “All this year, I’ve been battling with myself over whether I should tell Dumbledore about Sirius being an animagus… but it would mean admitting what we had done. And Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me…”

“Again… you’re not alone,” Daniel said, shamefully.

“I know, Daniel, I know…” Professor Lupin said in a sympathetic tone. “But in my cowardice, I talked myself into believing that Sirius being an animagus had nothing to do with his escape, or how he was getting into the school… that it must have been dark arts he’d learned from Lord Voldemort… so I suppose, in a way, Severus has been right about me, all along.”

“Wait,” Black said. “Severus? Not Severus Snape? What the hell does he have to do with it?”

“He’s here… Sirius,” Professor Lupin said. “He’s teaching here as well.”

Black growled. “Lucky I never ran into him then…”

Professor Lupin sighed again. “Professor Snape was at school with us. He was in our year, but Slytherin, though I suppose that’s no mystery.”

“Yeah, not really,” Ronnie said.

“Anyway, Severus fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. For more than his own ambitions… you see… Sirius here played a… well… trick, on him… which involved me…”

Professor Lupin’s voice became bitter once again but Sirius did not look abashed.

“Served him right,” Sirius growled. “Always sneaking around after us, trying to get us expelled…”

“Uh Severus was a bit… overly interested in what we got up to every month,” Daniel said. “This was more than the usual inter-house rivalry. It was mostly towards James, but the rest of us were guilty by association.”

“Well… we did help out with the tormenting,” Black said, smiling again wickedly.

“Anyway,” Professor Lupin said, frustrated at the interruption. “One night, Severus saw Madam Pomfrey leading me to the Whomping Willow. Sirius thought it would be, erm, amusing, to tell Severus that all he had to do was prod the knot on the trunk with a long stick and he could follow. Well, of course, Severus tried it. If he had made it as far as this house, he’d have met a fully-formed werewolf. However, Sirius told your father and Daniel what happened and they acted at once. Daniel told Desmond, while your father ran after Severus, at great risk to his own life, and tried to pull Severus away. The sound of their scuffling in the tunnel attracted me, and I went down to investigate. I saw them and charged, but fortunately Desmond arrived in time and managed to hold me off until your father and Severus could escape. Unfortunately, obviously the cat was out of the bag at that point. Professor Dumbledore forbid Severus to tell anyone, but the fact remained, Severus now knew what I was.”

“Is, is that why Professor Snape is so afraid of Professor Stratton?” Harriet asked.

“Yes, the sight of a fully-grown, fully-formed blood-wolf on the attack is a rather shocking experience,” Professor Lupin said.

“And that’s why Professor Snape doesn’t like you,” Harriet said, more comprehension dawning on her. “Because he thought you were in on the joke.”

“That’s right.”

The voice was cold and sneering, and came out of mid-air. At that moment, Professor Snape appeared out of thin-air himself, directly behind Professor Lupin, whipping off Harriet’s invisibility cloak and pointing his wand directly at Professor Lupin’s face.

Hermione actually screamed, and Black leapt to his feet. Harriet felt her feet briefly leave the ground, she jumped so hard.

“I found this on the ground on the way to the Willow,” Professor Snape said, holding up the cloak. “Very useful. This is yours, I presume, Potter?”

Professor Snape was breathless with barely suppressed triumphant excitement. “You ought to be more careful with your toys, Lupin,” he said. “I took a goblet of potion to your office, as you’d forgotten to take it earlier today. There, on your desk, I saw a certain map I thought I had managed to get confiscated by Filch all those years ago. On it, I saw you and Dusk running down this tunnel and off the map.”

“Severus,” Professor Lupin started but Professor Snape cut him off.

“I’ve told Dumbledore time and again that you were not to be trusted, Lupin, and now here’s the proof. I never dreamed that you’d have the nerve to use this place again as your hideout. And you, Dusk. I had come to expect better of you over the years. But it seems old habits die hard, don’t they?”

“You’re wrong, Severus,” Daniel said. “You didn’t hear everything. Sirius is not here to hurt or kidnap Harriet.”

“No? I was under the impression he’d already done both,” Professor Snape said, eyeing Harriet, whose clothes were dirty and torn from Sirius’ attack.

“Well, okay he did but not for the reason everyone has thought!” Daniel said.

“Severus, please listen,” Professor Lupin said, still trying to talk sensibly.

“Well, well, well, I suppose this will make it three more for Azkaban tonight, won’t it?” Professor Snape said. “Poor Dumbledore, he’s going to be heartbroken by this development, won’t he?” he went on, sneering at Professor Lupin. “A _tame_ werewolf… harmless…”

“You fool,” Professor Lupin said. “Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting innocent men in Azkaban?”

With a loud bang and white flash, thin cords burst from Professor Snape’s wand and coiled around Lupin’s wrists, mouth, and ankles. He lost his balance and fell to the floor with a thud. Black and Daniel roared but Professor Snape’s wand flashed again. Daniel was thrown backwards against the wall, sliding down, apparently unconscious. Black started towards Professor Snape but with another flick, Professor Snape’s wand was pointing right between Black’s eyes.

“Give me a reason,” Professor Snape muttered. “Give me a reason to do it and I swear I will…”

Black had stopped dead, but his face lost none of its rage as he glared at Professor Snape.

“Big man now, aren’t you Snivellus…?” Black snarled. “Attacking the unarmed.”

Professor Snape’s contorted with, if possible, even more rage. Harriet couldn’t tell anymore which face was showing more abject hatred.

Harriet was frozen in her spot. She felt paralyzed. She didn’t know what to think. She had no idea whom to believe. She glanced at the other girls.

Ronnie was looking as dumbstruck as Harriet felt. Dora was now glaring at Professor Snape instead of Black. Erica was looking furious, while Hermione uncertain. Hermione went to take a step forward when Erica finally hopped off the bed.

“Would you just listen to what he has to say!” she demanded of Professor Snape, angrily. “I’ve been here with him for two weeks now, and he hasn’t hurt a hair on my head. He didn’t even want to kidnap me! It was an accident!”

Professor Snape growled. “Don’t be stupid, girl. You’ve clearly been Confunded. Listen to yourself, ‘accidentally kidnapped’?”

Erica flushed but Black shot her a look and she fell silent, though remained fuming.

Hermione stepped forward too. “Professor Snape, it really wouldn’t hurt to hear what they have ot say, would it?” she asked, breathless. “If…”

“Miss Granger,” Professor Snape snarled dangerously. “Keep quiet. You’re already facing a suspension from this school for this. You, Weasley, Flamel, and Potter are out-of-bounds in the company of a convicted mass-murderer and a werewolf! For once in your life will you _hold your tongue!_ ”

“Hey!” Dora shouted. “We may be out of bounds, but we caught Black!”

“Silence!” Professor Snape snapped.

“But, if there was a mistake—” Hermione started but Professor Snape cut her off.

“KEEP QUIET YOU STUPID GIRL!” he cried. He was starting to look even more deranged than Black had done in the tunnel. “DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”

Professor Snape’s wand set out a jet of sparks that dispersed less than an inch from Black’s forehead. Hermione whimpered and fell silent.

“Vengeance is sweet, Black… so very sweet… how I hoped I would be the one to catch you… and here you thought you were going to kill me, instead…”

“Kill you?” Black snarled. “I didn’t even know you were here until tonight!”

Professor Snape blinked. Harriet looked at Professor Snape. Did that mean that Professor Snape was the spy everyone had been talking about?

“Either way, the joke’s on you again, Severus,” Black said, his voice still a snarl and jerked a thumb at Ronnie. “As long as Ronnie here brings her rat up to the castle, I’ll come quietly…”

Professor Snape’s baffled expression vanished and his sneer returned. “Up to the castle?” he said silkily. “No, I don’t think we’ll need to go that far. We only need to get out of the Willow again and I can summon the dementors. I’m sure they’ll be pleased to see you again, Black. Happy enough to kiss you, I should think.”

Finally, Black’s rage faltered and his face went very pale. “You’ve got to hear me out,” he said, pointing at Ronnie and Scabbers again. “The rat! Look at the rat!”

Professor Snape’s sneer grew. He seemed beyond all reason. In spite of how Professor Snape had acted in the past; so ready to go to Ginny’s rescue, how panicked he’d been that Harriet was going on ahead into the Chamber of Secrets without him, Harriet suddenly felt distinctly afraid of him.

“Come, all of you,” Professor Snape said. He clicked his fingers and some of the cords binding Professor Lupin sprang up into his hand. He pointed his wand at Daniel’s unconscious form and Daniel was dragged straight up into the air by his ankle, hanging upside down as if caught in an invisible snare.

“I’ll drag the werewolf,” Professor Snape said. “I don’t think the dementors would mind giving him a little kiss too.”

“You…” Harriet said, her voice shaking.

Professor Snape slowly turned to look at her, his eyes unfathomable.

“You… you’re… pathetic!” she snapped. “What happened to you? Is that why you’re like this? Why you’re so mean to _everyone_? Just because they made a fool of you at school? I put up with my cousin bullying me for years but I still try and be nice to everyone!” Harriet said, her rage rising. She began shouting now. “BESIDES! PROFESSOR LUPIN COULD HAVE KILLED ME A HUNDRED TIMES THIS YEAR! SAME WITH DANIEL! LAST YEAR YOU WENT INTO THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS TO SAVE GINNY, BUT SINCE GETTING HERE ALL YOU’VE CARED ABOUT IS YOUR PETTY REVENGE OVER A STUPIDLY THOUGHT OUT PRANK! YOU DIDN’T THINK FOR A SECOND TO CHECK IF ERICA WAS OKAY!”

Professor Snape was frozen. He looked like a statue. Harriet’s throat was throbbing from the diatribe.

“We’ll speak of this… later… Potter…” Professor Snape said, his voice dangerously icy now. “Now come… back to the school… now… or I assure you… you will be expelled by the time I’m done with you… you and your friends… now… come. It’s time to introduce our little criminal trio to their cloaked new friends…”

Harriet took a step forward and went to reach for her wand. However, at that moment, a shout rang out from the doorway.

“ _STUPEFY_!”

Professor Snape was knocked off his feet as a jet of bright-red sparks hit him from behind. Black just managed to duck out of the way as Professor Snape went sprawling onto the floor, his wand clattering across the floor. Black managed to step on it and bent down to pick up it up. Daniel meanwhile dropped to the floor with a cringing thump.

“That. Felt. So. _Good_!”

Everyone not bound or unconscious spun back to the doorway. There, standing on the threshold, his wand pointing at Black, was George Weasley.


	27. The Servant of Lord Voldemort

“Priorities are always subjective.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“George!?” Erica gasped.

George blushed as red as his hair, but smiled. “Yeah, it’s me,” he replied, his wand still trained on Black.

Black meanwhile was paying George no mind. He was too busy trying to free Professor Lupin.

“My knife,” Sirius asked holding out a hand to Erica and Hermione.

Harriet expected George to protest, but he lowered his wand. Hermione nervously handed over the knife. Black took it and promptly cut Professor Lupin loose.

Professor Lupin rubbed his wrists and face. “Thank you, George,” Professor Lupin said.

“Nah, I’ve wanted to get one over on that git for ages,” George said. “Fred’ll never believe me though.” George suddenly looked awkward. “Though, I’d be rather obliged if, uh… no one told Snape it was me.”

“The secret’s safe with me,” Erica said, smiling at George with mixed warmth and disbelief.

Professor Lupin got to his feet and looked at Daniel. “Might I have my wand back now, Harriet? So I might revive him?”

Harriet held out Professor Lupin’s wand to him. Professor Lupin took it and turned back to Daniel. “ _Enervate_.”

Daniel twitched and gasped as he regained consciousness immediately.

“Welcome back,” Professor Lupin said.

“Thanks,” Daniel said rubbing his head. “What happened?”

“Snivellus hit you with a stunning spell,” Black explained.

“Been a long time since that’s happened,” Daniel said. “Old times after all.”

Black chuckled.

Erica was paying no attention to them. Her eyes were only for George. “How did you find me?” she asked.

Harriet raised her eyebrows at this question, but George simply shrugged and replied. “Fred and I were coming back from Honeydukes, getting some supplies for the end of exams party tonight. We saw Snape running past us down a corridor, moving like hell. Well, if Snape was in such a hurry he wasn’t even going to try and find out what we were up to, in his campaign to get us in trouble, there must have been something big going on. And well… I thought, or hoped, or… I dunno… was afraid… it was something about you… so I just dropped what I was carrying and ran after him.”

George paused to study Professor Snape. “He got kinda awkward to follow after he put on the cloak… which is seriously cool by the way, Harriet. Didn’t know where this tunnel went, Fred and I’ve never been in it before because of the Willow. But I kept going cuz well… if they’d finally found you and were doing a rescue, there was no way I wasn’t going to be a part of it…”

Erica took a step towards George who was blushing brighter. “You ran after a professor who hates you… down a dark tunnel you’d never been in before… knowing you were probably going to encounter Sirius Black at the end… to save me?”

If George could have blushed anymore, his freckles would have become the lightest parts of his face. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean… of course I was gonna. I mean, you’re you.”

Erica was standing very close to him now, smiling up at him. A mischievous smile swept over her face and Harriet was sure she was about to say something cheeky, but she apparently decided against it. “My hero,” she said softly, instead.

“Nah,” George said awkwardly. “I mean… looks like you already kinda got saved.”

“Oh shut up and take the compliment,” she said and without another moment’s hesitation, leaned up and kissed him.

George froze for only a moment before he gently placed his hands on Erica’s waist.

“You can’t be serious,” Black muttered, watching with raised eyebrows.

Erica broke off the kiss just long enough to give Sirius a very dirty look before she resumed kissing George. Harriet glanced around the room. Ronnie was looking as dumbstruck as Harriet. Dora’s expression was unreadable. Hermione had her hands over her mouth, her eyes bright and twinkling as she watched. Daniel and Professor Lupin both exchanged a look and slowly shrugged.

Finally, Erica broke the kiss and George slowly fluttered his eyes open.

“Wow,” he said.

Erica smiled. “All you gotta say?”

George blushed. “Well, I suppose if I’ve got the courage to do all this, I should finally have the courage to ask you out?”

“Probably,” Erica said, smiling up at him expectantly.

“So, um… would you like to… you know—”

“Yes,” Erica said.

“Hogsmeade trip this Saturday?”

“It’s a date.”

George beamed and kissed Erica again. Dora finally cleared her throat a bit loudly and they broke off.

“Right, well, now the important business is out of the way,” George said, looking over the room again. “Back to you guys explaining what the hell’s going on.”

“You… you mean you just believe them?” Dora asked. “How much did you overhear?”

George shrugged. “As much as Snape did, really. I was right behind him most of the way. Followed the sound of his footsteps through the tunnel then his footprints in the dust once we got in the Shack. So… yeah. I mean, listening to you three talking,” he said gesturing to the three grown men, “it was kinda obvious nothing really bad was happening. Though, none of that really explains why you’re all, you know, here?”

“Well then… it’s time we revealed that once and for all,” Black said and held out a hand to Ronnie. “Girl. Give me Peter. Now.”

Ronnie clutched Scabbers’ cage tighter. “Why? You really expect us all to believe you broke out of Azkaban just to get Scabbers?”

“Wait, Scabbers is alive?” George asked, looking at the rat. “But the blood, and the toe?”

“He’s pulled that stunt before,” Black growled.

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked when his eyes widened with dawning comprehension and he and Professor Lupin exchanged a look.

Harriet’s memory hanks sprang into action once more. It was another crazy coincidence or whatever it was, and yet it fit. Black, Daniel, and Professor Lupin were all calling Scabbers, Peter Pettigrew. And the biggest bit of Peter Pettigrew found, after Black blew him up along with the rest of the street, was his finger. But there was something odd about that which Harriet couldn’t figure out.

“Okay, just lemme get this straight,” Ronnie said, still sounding very sceptical. “Let’s say Pettigrew can turn into a rat. There are bajillions of rats in the world. How the hell did he know, from Azkaban, that Scabbers is Pettigrew? How could you possibly know this is the right one?”

“That’s… actually a very fair question,” Professor Lupin said. “How _did_ you find out?”

Black put a hand inside his cloak pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it up and held it out to Professor Lupin. Professor Lupin took it and unfolded it so he and Daniel could see. Harriet leaned over to look as well. It was the photograph from the _Daily Prophet_ of Ronnie and her family in Egypt. At once, Harriet spotted Scabbers sitting on Ronnie’s shoulder.

“How… where…” Professor Lupin spluttered.

“How did you get this?” Daniel asked.

“Fudge,” Black said simply. “Well… kind of…”

“Kind of?” Professor Lupin asked.

“Yes. He told me that it was a gift from Sherrod,” Black said. “In exchange for a favour or something, or else he wouldn’t have done it.”

“Sherrod?” Professor Lupin asked.

“That… crafty… sunuvabitch,” Daniel muttered, leaning in closer to look at the photograph. “Of course he recognized him.”

“My god,” Professor Lupin said. “His front paw…"

“What about it?” Ronnie asked.

“He’s got a missing front toe…” Black growled.

“He cut it off himself then?” Daniel asked.

“Just before he transformed,” Black said. “I cornered him and he yelled for the whole street to hear that _I_ betrayed Lily and James. Just as I was about to curse him, he blew the street apart behind his back with his wand. Killed everyone within twenty feet of himself, then as I was getting back to my feet, he cut off his finger, transformed, and ran down the sewers.”

“Oh god…” Dora gasped.

“That’s so… so…” Hermione stammered.

“Like an animal…” Daniel said, his eyes burning as he looked at the caged rat in Ronnie’s hands.

“Didn’t you ever hear, Ronnie?” Professor Lupin asked. “The biggest bit of Peter ever found was his finger.”

“Well, he is an old rat!” Ronnie argued. “He coulda lost it in a fight with another rat.”

“And just how long did you have this rat?” Black asked. “Let me guess? Twelve years?”

“Well…” Ronnie furrowed her head in thought. “Yeah…”

“That’s a long time for a rat, don’t you think?” Daniel asked. “Even a magical one.”

“We’ve… we’ve been taking good care of him!” Ronnie said, though even Harriet could tell Ronnie’s uncertainty was growing.

“Doesn’t look too well at the moment though, does he?” Professor Lupin asked.

“It’s that mad cat’s fault,” Ronnie said glaring at Crookshanks. The cat however kept purring on the bed without a care in the world, his bushy tail flipping about.

“He’s not mad,” Black said. “He’s the smartest of his kind I’ve ever met… even if I told him not to let anyone in after us…”

“He’s _my_ cat,” Hermione said, reaching down to stroke Crookshank’s shaggy head. “We were so desperate to get into the Willow I just… called out for help and he pressed the knot right away.”

“Ah, well, that would explain it,” Black said. “Suppose helping me would have been the more traitorous act then, wouldn’t it?”

Crookshanks continued to purr.

“Anyway, he recognized Peter for what he was straight-away, and me as well. It wasn’t until my first break-in on Halloween that he came around… he came and told me that I’d frightened little Emma… and I promised I would do my best to make it up to her…”

“So… it wasn’t Emma giving you the secrets of how to get in?” Dora asked. “It was Crookshanks…”

“Yes,” Black said. “Once I told him who I was, and what I was after, he tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn’t. I thought we had our chance when he was moved to the boys’ dormitory instead. Crookshanks stole a list of the passwords off a boy’s bedside table and brought them to me.”

Harriet slowly sat in the chair again. It was all making sense. And yet her brain kept telling her it shouldn’t. But it did.

“Unfortunately, it seemed Peter got wind of what we were up to and ran for it. Crookshanks here told me that he left some blood and another toe behind. I suppose if the trick worked well enough once, it would work a second time.”

“Poor Scott,” Dora said and actually laughed. “He’s been driving himself mad all year trying to figure out what the hell you’ve been up to,” she went on. “Because it was pretty obvious to him that whatever you were after, it couldn’t have been Harriet.”

“No… I wasn’t after Harriet… I was after the one person in that school I knew was a threat to her… the traitor, Peter Pettigrew…” Black said, his eyes burning once more.

“But how?” Harriet asked. “You were our secret-keeper, not Peter!” Her temper was rising once again. “You were my father’s best friend! You protected us! How could Peter have told Lord Voldemort if you hadn’t told him!?”

Black’s eyes became over-bright. He hung his head and sank back onto the bed. “I know it’s my fault… all my fault…” Black said, and Harriet was surprised to hear his voice about to break. “I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff…”

Black turned pained eyes on Harriet. “When we were getting the Fidelius Charm ready, your father insisted on using me. Dumbledore offered, but we thought he was too obvious… and I thought the same of myself. But… we decided on a trick… we would pretend I was the secret keeper, we’d tell everyone. And in reality, we would use—”

“Peter.” It was Daniel who spoke this time. His voice was bitter and his fists clenched.

“Yes,” Black said. “The night your parents died, Harriet… I’d arranged to check on Peter. But when I got to his house; he was gone. There was no sign of a struggle… no Dark Mark in the sky… I knew something was wrong. I flew to your parents’ house straightaway and… I saw it destroyed…and their bodies… and Hagrid there… holding you in his arms… this precious… tiny little thing… with that horrible cut on your head…”

Black paused and buried his face in his hands, choking back a sob. Professor Lupin put a hand on Black’s shoulder. Black took a deep breath and continued.

“And I knew… I knew what I’d done… I didn’t save you… I handed you over to the spy… right into Voldemort’s hands…”

Ronnie, Dora, Hermione, and George all shuddered at the mention of Voldemort’s name. Erica, who grew up in a different country gave no reaction. Neither did Professor Lupin or Daniel. However, the word hit Harriet like a kick in the gut. Not out of fear, but because of what it meant to her to hear Sirius Black say Voldemort’s name out loud. Only the people she trusted the most in the world said that name out loud: Professor Dumbledore, Professor Howe, Professor Lupin, and Daniel.

“It’s time now,” Daniel said, getting to his feet. “We’ve explained enough, there’s only one last thing to do to prove what happened once and for all.”

“Yes,” Professor Lupin agreed. He turned and held a hand out to Ronnie. “Ronnie, _give me that rat._ ”

Harriet had never heard Professor Lupin use that tone before. It was full of determined anger.

“Wh-what are you gonna do to him if I do?” Ronnie asked.

“Force him to reveal himself,” Professor Lupin explained. “If he is just a rat, it won’t hurt him.”

Ronnie looked down at Scabbers, squeaking and gnawing on the bars, still clearly panicking. Finally, Ronnie hesitantly held out the cage and Professor Lupin took it. Daniel held out a hand to Hermione and she returned his wand. Daniel stepped up next to Professor Lupin. Black stood on Professor Lupin’s other side, brandishing Professor Snape’s wand. They pointed their wands at the cage.

“I’ll get the cage, you two get Peter,” Daniel said.

Professor Lupin and Black nodded. Daniel jabbed his wand at the cage and it vanished. Scabbers spun to make for the door but Professor Lupin and Black were quicker. A bright flash of blue light shot from the wands and connected with the balding, rail-thin rat before he’d even taken two steps. The rat was lifted into the air, spinning and twisting madly.

Ronnie yelled and the little rat fell to the floor. A blinding flash of light lit the room and it happened. Scabbers began to grow.

First a head shot upwards, then shoulders and arms. These were followed by a torso, waist, and finally legs. There, in the middle of the room, what had once been Scabbers, was now a short, balding man, wringing his hands anxiously. Crookshanks hissed and spit at the man from the bed. Black raised his wand and took a step forward but Daniel and Professor Lupin both put a hand on his arm and forced it down.

The man was short, and what remained of his hair was colourless and sparse. He looked to have once been plump but now was very thin, his skin hanging loosely from his short neck. Harriet couldn’t help but notice that despite being returned to human, his eyes were small and watery, as Scabbers’ had been, and his upturned little nose put Harriet in mind of Scabbers still more strongly.

“Hello, Peter,” Professor Lupin said. His voice sounded pleasant. “Long time, no see.”

“R-Remus, S-S-Sirius, Daniel,” Pettigrew stuttered. Even his voice was squeaky and high-pitched. His eyes darted towards the door. “M-my… my good… friends…”

“Yes, well, we’d like to talk to you about that, Peter,” Professor Lupin said, his voice still polite and calm.

“Yes… we were just talking about the night Lily and James died…” Daniel chimed in. “Might have missed most of it with the fit you were throwing in your cage…”

Harriet could see beads of sweat starting to glint on Pettigrew’s forehead. “Remus… Daniel… you can’t believe him… you don’t… do you? He tried to kill me!”

“Yes…” Daniel said, his voice getting an edge to it.

“We heard,” Professor Lupin added.

“And now he’s going to try and kill me again!” Pettigrew wailed. “You two have to help me! He killed Lily and James and now he’s going to kill me too! He’ll kill you two too if he gets the chance! Stop him!”

Pettigrew was pointing at black, terror showing in every line of his face. Harriet couldn’t help but notice that Pettigrew used his middle finger to point, as his index was missing. He also had a distinct limp as he moved back a couple steps towards the door, undoubtedly from where he’d cut off his toe.

Daniel raised his wand and Pettigrew stopped backing up.

“No one’s going to kill you until we’ve had a little chat, Peter,” Professor Lupin said.

“A chat? About what?” Pettigrew said, looking around wildly. “I knew this would happen! I knew he’d come after me! I knew he’d find me!”

“You knew Sirius was going to break out of the most secure prison in the world when no one else has ever done so?” Daniel asked, sceptically.

“He’s got terrible dark powers!” Pettigrew squealed. “How else did he get out of there?! Tricks the Dark Lord taught him no doubt!”

Black laughed, a mirthless, terrible laugh. “Voldemort! Teach me tricks?” he asked, wickedly.

Pettigrew flinched at the name.

“What’s that? Scared to hear your old master’s name? And if he taught me how to escape that place, why would I just decided to sit on my arse in the most horrible prison for twelve years? Shits and grins? No, Peter… it wasn’t me you were hiding from… you were hiding from them… hiding from his old supporters… because not all of them made it into Azkaban, did they?”

Black’s face was getting more menacing by the moment. “I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… I heard lots of things while spending twelve years in prison for _your_ crimes… they scream all sorts of things in their sleep at night… and wouldn’t you know it… but _your_ name comes up quite often… seems as though they think _you_ double-crossed _them_ … It was your information that sent Voldemort to the Potters’ that night, wasn’t it? But like I said… plenty are still out there… biding their time… just imagine if they ever found out you were alive…”

“Lunacy,” Pettigrew stammered. “Don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“What I’d like to know is why an innocent man would spend twelve years pretending to be a rat?” Daniel asked, his voice gravelly with suppressed anger.

“Innocent and scared!” Pettigrew cried. “If Voldemort’s supporters were after me it was because I put their best spy, Sirius Black, in Azkaban!”

“Why you…” Black snarled, sounding a bit like the dog he had been. “When did I ever cower before bullies? When did I ever look around for people stronger than me to cower behind? Unlike you… you who used to hide behind me and Remus and Daniel and James…. I should have known you were the spy from the start…”

“Me!” Pettigrew spluttered. “A spy! Never! I don’t know how—”

“DON’T LIE!” Daniel bellowed, staring down Pettigrew looking quite unlike himself. Pettigrew cowered as Daniel loomed over him. “I thought it was you all along! I wished they’d told me because I would have talked them out of it! Insisted they use me or anyone instead of you! Sniveling little coward! I never believed it was Sirius! I got reprimands for speaking out at the Auror office against Sirius’ sentencing to Azkaban without trial! I got demoted! Finally I quit and started up my shop! Having to live with it for years!”

Daniel was panting. Harriet got the impression Daniel had never told anyone about this. “And you know what? The worst part? The nail in the coffin of any dignity I had left? I CHANGED MY MIND!!” he bellowed. “I finally convinced myself I was wrong! I shifted the blame onto Sirius and accepted that I’d made a mistake! That he must have really been the spy! That he must have been the traitor all along! All the while you were hiding getting fat and lazy with a wizard family, just waiting for your chance!”

Pettigrew sank to the floor, whimpering as Daniel raised a clenched fist. He didn’t strike, but he clearly wanted to. Professor Lupin put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder but he shrugged it off, walking away and sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into his hands.

“You…”

Everyone turned. It was Ronnie who had spoken. The look of rage Daniel and Black wore when looking at Pettigrew was mirrored on her face. Pettigrew whimpered and crawled towards her.

“Ronnie? Please, haven’t I been a good pet? Please, don’t let them… please help—”

“You… sick… bastard!” Ronnie cried out and she kicked Pettigrew hard in the face as he neared her. Pettigrew cried out and rolled away, cowering as Ronnie moved forward and kicked him hard again before anyone could react.

“I let you sleep in my bed!” she shouted and kicked him again. “You’ve seen me naked you sick—you evil!”

Words failed Ronnie. Erica and George both grabbed Ronnie’s arms and pulled her back before she could kick him again.

Pettigrew was sobbing, pitifully, on the floor, curled up. Ronnie gave out a little sob too, clutching her arms tight around her chest, trembling. Her rage it seemed had given over to disgust and shame. George was hugging her tight, looking down at Pettigrew with murder in his eyes. Harriet was feeling violated too. Pettigrew had to have seen her naked as well during the times she stayed at the Burrow. Her urge to draw her wand and curse him into something horrible was growing by the second.

There was a silence thereafter, which Hermione finally broke while changing the subject. “M-Mr Black… Sirius…”

Black looked down at Hermione with an incredulous look on his face. Harriet wondered if he’d ever been spoken to politely since her parents’ deaths. “Please, if you don’t mind my asking, and... and I don’t mean to sound accusatory... but I’d just like to know, if you didn’t use any dark magic… how _did_ you escape Azkaban?”

Black frowned as he looked at Hermione. He didn’t seem upset. Instead it looked as though he was thinking hard. “Well, to be honest, I don’t know exactly. I think the only reason I never lost my mind or my powers is because I knew I was innocent. It wasn’t a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn’t suck it out of me… but it kept me focused, and it kept me sane. It was like a fire the Dementors couldn’t snuff out. But it still left me very weak, and I couldn’t hope to drive them off without a wand.”

Black took a breath, struggling to find words. “I… well, the only power I had left to me was my ability to transform. So that’s what I did. Dementors can’t see, they feel their way towards their victims through emotions. So when I was a dog, I think my mind was less complex, so… they must have thought it meant I was losing my mind as well.”

“Clever,” Daniel said.

“Desperate,” Black corrected. “But then I got that paper from Howe… and I spotted Peter in it right away… and I knew that was the real reason he’d sent it. And I knew that I was the only one who could do something about it.”

“But, if Professor Howe knew it was Pettigrew, why didn’t he do something?” Hermione asked.

Black shrugged. “Could be anything. Most likely, he knew the Ministry wouldn’t believe him.”

“Probably not,” Daniel said. “He resigned from the Auror office right after you went to Azkaban.”

“Professor Howe was an Auror?” Harriet asked.

“Not as such. More like a detective… he solved the crimes; the aurors cleaned up. The office has been a mess since he left and Scrimgeour took over,” Daniel replied. “Equally likely… he wanted Sirius to conduct some mayhem. Howe… doesn’t like the Ministry much, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Anyway,” Black went on. “I knew only I could do something. Howe sent it to me as a message. He knows we’re animagi—”

“How did he know, if you’ve kept it secret from Professor Dumbledore?” Harriet asked.

Black waved a dismissive hand. “It’s Howe. Nothing’s secret from him. But we were part of a… well… a secret order, under Dumbledore during the last war. He figured us out straightaway. So after thinking about it for a week, I realized the only way I could do anything about it was to escape. I waited for dinner, and slipped past the Dementors as a dog. They can’t detect animals as well as humans and they were confused. I swam to the mainland, nearly drown a couple times, and began making my way to Hogwarts.”

More and more pieces of the puzzle were clicking together in Harriet’s mind. _Save Harriet, kill the traitor_ , the words Professor Howe had told her Black had been muttering in his sleep. And then the dog after escaping Privet Drive.

“It was you,” Harriet said, taking a step towards Black. “That night… the dog in the streetlight… the dog Professor Howe told wasn’t needed, but didn’t seem to want to leave…”

Black’s eyes were over-bright. He nodded and his lip trembled and his voice cracked as he spoke. “Yes… I just… wanted a glimpse of you, just to make sure you were okay. I heard the fight inside and almost burst in myself, but I saw Howe and Watkins run up to the door. Howe turned their robes into Accidental Magic Reversal Squad robes and they burst inside. I knew if Howe was on the case you were perfectly safe but… I was still scared… so I followed when I heard you run out the back door… I got careless though and you spotted me. I heard Howe explain that I was a Gurt Dog, and tell me to leave. I didn’t want to… but I knew it was most likely for the best. So I continued on towards Hogwarts on foot.”

“So Professor Howe knew it was you, even then?” Harriet asked.

“Of course he did,” Black said.

Harriet crossed her arms. Professor Howe had never lied to her before. He admitted he couldn’t tell her some things, but not lied.

“Now, now, Harriet,” Daniel said as if reading her mind. “If Howe had told you the truth, would you have believed him?”

Harriet slowly uncrossed her arms. “No…” she admitted.

Black spoke up again. “I’ve been living in the forest ever since… until Erica discovered me in the little alcove where Emma was bringing me food. I changed back into human form so I could better, well, enjoy the flavour of the food just as Erica stepped around the corner. I knew I couldn’t hide her in the forest as well, and I couldn’t let her tell everyone I was an animagus, so I was forced to take her with me.”

“That was a bit of a shock,” Erica said.

Sirius managed a snort that might have been a laugh. “Well… so we moved in here… I cleaned it up a bit to make it liveable… have been helping Erica with her lessons when not hunting for Peter… other than that, I only came into the grounds to watch the Quidditch matches…”

Black looked up at Harriet, his thin lips curled into a passable smile and his eyes still wet with tears. “You fly better than your father did, Harriet…”

Harriet didn’t respond. She kept looking at Black with new eyes. She was looking past the skull now. Following the lines of the face, and slowly, before her very eyes, the face of the laughing young man in her parents’ wedding photo became recognizable.

“You’re telling the truth… aren’t you…?” Harriet asked, breathless.

Black opened his mouth to respond. He paused, his words failing him, and he simply nodded instead. Without another word herself, Harriet took another step forward and wrapped her arms around Black in a hug.

Black was taken aback at first, but after a moment’s pause, he too hugged Harriet back.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Black was muttering. “It’s still my fault… all my fault…”

Harriet shook her head and kept hugging Black tight. “I believe you,” was all she said in reply.

“No!” Pettigrew was scrambling to his knees. He crawled towards Harriet and Sirius but in his haste he tripped over Professor Snape’s fallen form, landing on his face. He kept crawling forward.

“Sirius, please, it’s me, Peter! You wouldn’t!”

Sirius kicked out at Pettigrew and he pulled back. “Don’t you dare touch me,” Sirius spat. “There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them!”

“Remus, Daniel,” Pettigrew said turning to them. “Wouldn’t he have told you if they’d changed the plan? You can’t believe this! You can’t!”

“Well… he wouldn’t have told,” Professor Lupin said. “Not if they thought I was the spy.”

Sirius sighed. “I… I thought it was you… Remus… I’m sorry… and Daniel… James…”

Sirius’ words caught in his throat.

“Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,” Remus said. “If you’ll forgive me in turn for believing it was you?”

“Of course,” Sirius said.

Daniel’s jaw clenched and he slowly nodded. “I… I understand, old friend… it could have been any of us…”

“But, in the end it was only one of us,” Professor Lupin said, his voice becoming dangerous again. “And now… it is time…”

“All three of us?” Sirius said, rolling up his sleeves.

“Yes… I think so…” Daniel said. He sounded reluctant, but he too rolled up his sleeves and the three stood as a line once more, facing down Pettigrew like a firing squad.

Pettigrew went into a panic. It was pitiful to watch. He crawled towards Ronnie once more. “Ronnie, please, wasn’t I such a good pet? Such a good rat!”

“Get away from her,” George spat pulling Ronnie away and kicking out at Pettigrew.

“Sweet girl, clever girl,” Pettigrew said, turning to Hermione now. “You won’t let them… you who fought so hard to save the hippogriff… help me!”

Hermione backed away too, actually sliding onto the bed to pull her feet out of Pettigrew’s reach. Finally, Pettigrew turned to Harriet. Harriet couldn’t help but notice that he had passed over Dora. Harriet supposed he knew her well enough over the past three years to know that he would find no sympathy there.

“Harriet… oh Harriet… you look so much like them both… James’ hair but Lily’s eyes—”

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRIET!” Sirius roared. “HOW DARE YOU FACE HER!? HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF LILY AND JAMES IN FRONT OF HER!?”

“Harriet,” Pettigrew whimpered, his hands held up in front of him as if in prayer. “James would have understood… James wouldn’t have wanted me killed…”

“You sold Lily and James to Lord Voldemort,” Daniel said, working himself up. “Do you deny it?”

“Daniel! Remus! Sirius! What was I to do?!” Pettigrew wailed. “He had weapons you couldn’t imagine! I was scared! I was never brave like you four! The Dark Lord forced me!”

“You know what gives you away, Peter?” Daniel asked. He knelt beside Pettigrew, looking him in the face menacingly. “Only Death Eaters ever called him the Dark Lord… and only Death Eaters ever bore this.”

He grabbed Pettigrew’s left arm and yanked up the sleeve. There, on Pettigrew’s inner forearm, was a horrible tattoo. It was barely visible, but even in the dim light, Harriet could make it out. It was a skull, and circling around it, passing through the eye sockets, was a green snake.

“You’d been passing information to Voldemort for a year before Lily and James died,” Black snarled. “Don’t lie… you were his spy!”

“He was taking over everywhere!” Pettigrew wheezed. “What was to be gained by refusing him!?”

“Maybe some innocent lives, Peter!?” Sirius said.

“But he would have killed me!” Pettigrew whined.

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” Sirius roared now. “DIED INSTEAD OF BERTRAYING YOUR FRIENDS!”

“As we would have done for you…” Daniel said, his voice chillingly calm now.

Daniel retook his place in the line with Professor Lupin and Sirius.

“You should have realized, Peter,” Professor Lupin said. “If Voldemort and his followers didn’t kill you, we would.”

“Goodbye, Peter,” Daniel said.

Hermione turned away. Ronnie, Erica and George were watching with blank stares. Dora’s eyes were burning as she looked upon the cowering man. Harriet looked at the three men as their arms raised. The three men who represented so much of what she’d lost, and now was on the verge of regaining. About to lose them again if they committed this act. Her legs and mouth worked on their own.

“NO!” Harriet shoved between the men and stood in front of Pettigrew, holding her arms out to block them. “You can’t kill him! You can’t!”

The three men looked stunned.

“Harriet… this vermin is the reason you have no parents!” Sirius said. “He would have seen you dead too without turning a hair! His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family! Than the entire world!”

“He can go to Azkaban,” Harriet said. “We’ll take him to the castle. We’ll clear your name, Sirius,” she went on. “Killing him won’t fix that!”

Sirius looked staggered, though Harriet wasn’t sure if it was her argument, or that she had called him Sirius.

“Harriet!” Pettigrew squealed and hugged her around the waist. “Thank you! It’s more than I deserve! Thank you!”

“Get off!” Harriet said and she backhanded Pettigrew hard across the face. He fell to the floor again, cringing. “I’m not doing it for you… I’m doing it for them! And you know what? I’m doing it for me! I don’t want my father’s best friends to become killers for you, and I’m not going to give up people who I should have always known who I’ve just got back now!”

The room went very quiet. Harriet looked at the three armed men. Daniel was first. He lowered his wand, and gave sideways glances to Professor Lupin and Sirius, who both lowered theirs as well.

“That’s very noble of you, Harriet,” Professor Lupin said.

“Yes…” Daniel agreed. “Exactly like James. And your mother…”

“You’re… you’re the only one who has the right to decide… Harriet…” Sirius finished.

Daniel put away his wand and Sirius stuck Professor Snape’s in his belt.

Professor Lupin stepped forward, pointing his at Pettigrew again. Harriet made to move between them but Professor Lupin held up a hand. “I’m just going to restrain him, Harriet,” he said, reassuringly. “I swear.”

Harriet nodded and stepped aside. This time, thin cords shot from Lupin’s wand and bound Pettigrew instead.

“But if you try and escape Peter… one hint of trying to transform… and we _will_ kill you…” Sirius said menacingly. “You agree, Harriet?”

Harriet nodded so Pettigrew could see her.

“Right then,” Daniel said clapping his hands together. “I think this will work best if I head back to the school first to act as a buffer. And I should probably take Erica with me.”

“A capital idea, old friend,” Remus said.

Daniel smiled at Harriet, gave her a tiny wink and suddenly, as if watching Pettigrew’s transformation in reverse, Daniel began shrinking downwards. He bent over and his clothes vanished, becoming black fur instead. His hands and feet became giant paws, long claws drawing out and then retracting. His face morphed into that of a cats. His eyes grew larger and round, almost blending in with his coat. A long tail sprouted and a thin, mane-like trail of brushy hair sprouted along his back, putting Harriet in mind of Daniel’s ponytail. When finished, he was easily the same size as Sirius was when transformed.

“Wicked…” Ronnie muttered. She had apparently recovered from the shock and shame.

“I might have to ask Professor McGonagall about how to do that…” Dora muttered.

Erica nervously stepped towards the massive cat. Daniel crouched low.

“Climb on and hold onto the mane,” Professor Lupin said. “He’s a tough old thing.”

The cat-Daniel blinked one of its deep blue eyes and Harriet was struck by the odd impression that it must have been a wink. Erica nervously swung a leg over Daniel’s middle, and took hold of the thin mane. Daniel took a step towards Harriet, his great cat head nuzzling her hand. Harriet gave him a soft scratch behind the ears and Daniel turned, rapidly disappearing out the door, Erica clinging to his back, eyes wide.

“Now, for the rest of us,” Professor Lupin said.

“What about Professor Snape?” Hermione asked.

Professor Snape was still slumped on the floor, unconscious.

“Well… it’s probably best we don’t wake him just yet. We can take him like this,” Professor Lupin said and raised his wand. “ _Mobilicorpus_.”

Professor Snape sprang up in the air, his limbs and head suspended as if a marionette, his toes dangling a few inches off the floor.

“Two of us should be chained to this,” Sirius said nudging Pettigrew with his toe. “Just to be sure…”

“I’ll do it,” Professor Lupin said.

“And me,” George said stepping forward.

Sirius conjured heavy manacles and they pulled Pettigrew to his feet. They cuffed Pettigrew’s right arm to Professor Lupin’s left and Pettigrew’s left arm to George’s right. They awkwardly left the room and Crookshanks hopped off the bed, darting past them to lead the way, his bushy tail held in the air like a victory banner.

Harriet followed with Sirius, Dora, Ronnie, and Hermione. Sirius was making Professor Snape drift along ahead of them with Professor Snape’s own wand. Getting into the tunnel was the most difficult part. They followed the light of Professor Lupin’s wand as they made their way back down the tunnel.

“You know what this means, of course?” Sirius said to Harriet. “Turning him in?”

“You’ll be free,” Harriet said. She couldn’t help but smile as she said it.

“Yes, well… I don’t know if anyone ever told you this, but… I’m your godfather.”

“Yeah, I did know that,” Harriet said.

“Well, I’m also your guardian…” he went on. Professor Snape’s scrapped his head on the ceiling but Sirius paid him no mind. “If anything should happen to them…”

Harriet’s stomach leapt. “Are… are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

Sirius paused. “Well, I-I guess I am… just… if you wanted another home… instead of the Dursleys… I didn’t get the impression you left there under all that happy of terms…”

“Of course!” Harriet shouted and let up, hugging Sirius tight around the neck.

Sirius staggered but hugged her back again. “Just like that?” he asked.

“Just like that,” Harriet said, beaming up at him as she let go and slid back down to her feet. “Do you have a house? Where is it? When could I move in?”

“Omigosh, then I’d be able to visit you in the summers!” Dora exclaimed.

Sirius’ smile was obvious even in the dim light of Professor Lupin’s distant wand. Once more, Harriet recognized the face of the young man in the wedding picture. They resumed walking along in silence and climbed up out of the tunnel back into the grounds. The tree did not attack, Crookshanks had most likely pressed the knot.

Harriet felt as though her heart was doing a tap-dance. She was going to leave the Dursleys. She was going to live with Sirius Black, her father’s best friend. She could go visit her friends in the summers with no trouble from the Dursleys. She could probably see Daniel and Professor Lupin whenever she wanted, too. She smirked wondering what the Dursleys would make of this revelation.

They started across the grounds toward the castle. Professor Lupin and George both had their wands trained on Pettigrew. Professor Snape was still drifting along like a puppet when it happened.

A cloud moved, and the grounds were bathed in moonlight. Professor Lupin froze and the unconscious floating form of Professor Snape bumped into him. Sirius flung out his arms stopping the four girls in their tracks. Professor Lupin was beginning to shake from head to foot.

“Oh no!” Hermione gasped. “He forgot to take the Wolfsbane!”

“Run!” Sirius said, “Run now! I’ll hold him off!”

“But George!” Ronnie shouted.

George was fumbling frantically with the manacle binding him to Pettigrew’s arm. There was a terrible scream that turned into a snarl. Harriet watched in horror as Professor Lupin’s face began to transform. It was nothing like how Daniel had transformed so smoothly into a cat. His face began to lengthen, awkwardly, bits of it jutting out at random. His chest was expanding and his ribs were visible as his robes and shirt were torn off. Hair was sprouting all over his body and his hands and feet were turning into clawed paws. A brushy tail sprouted from his trousers and he collapsed on all fours, panting heavily.

George was pointing his wand at werewolf-Lupin, trembling as violently as Professor Lupin had been. Sirius vanished from Harriet’s side and she saw him bounding towards Professor Lupin in dog form. Professor Lupin wrenched the manacle off his arm as easily as if it was paper. He was just about to take a swipe at George and Pettigrew when Sirius caught up with them. His jaws clamped hard on Professor Lupin’s arm and dragged him sideways away.

Sirius yelped as Professor Lupin swatted him with his other, terrible hand, knocking him to the ground. Sirius didn’t miss a beat, springing back at the werewolf and grabbing hard on his shoulder with his jaws. Professor Lupin howled with pain trying to throw the dog off.

Just then, Ronnie screamed. Harriet turned to see that Pettigrew had dived for Professor Lupin’s discarded wand. George was knocked off balance by Pettigrew’s dive, too distracted by the spectacle before him to notice right away. There was a bright flash and a loud bang and George crumpled the rest of the way. Crookshanks darted forwards but there was another flash and bang and the cat was actually thrown in the air, landing in a crumpled heap.

Harriet pointed her wand at Pettigrew and cried “ _EXPELLIARMUS!”_

It was too late. The spell missed as Pettigrew shrank back down to the size of a rat and shot off through the grass like a bullet. Ronnie ran forward now, but not towards the rat. Instead, she skidded on her knees to George’s side. Dora was right behind her, both girls kneeling at his side trying to rouse him.

Harriet was distracted again by the sound of a yelping dog in pain. She spun around to see Professor Lupin throwing Sirius to the ground. He snarled and was about to pounce for the kill when Harriet shouted out. “NO!”

The werewolf paused and turned to look at them.

“Oh no, oh no oh no oh no,” Hermione gasped.

The werewolf snarled and took a long-legged step towards them when—

WHAM!

The werewolf seemed to vanish before their eyes and there was the sound of skittering claws digging up dirt and yelps and thumps of something large rolling across the ground in pain. Harriet watched as the body of the werewolf skidded to a half a few yards away, apparently knocked aside by something of terrible force.

And then, she saw it. Standing right where Professor Werewolf-Lupin had been standing was another werewolf, but even more terrible looking. It was taller, much taller, with great broad shoulders, long arms that brushed the ground, and a long, wolfish face but with thicker jaws. Its eyes, as it turned and looked at them, were a bright, piercing, silvery-yellow.

Harriet was breathless at the sight. She expected the new werewolf to attack, but it did not. It stood there surveying them, making Harriet feel very, very small.

“Prof… Professor… Stratton…?” Hermione asked.

The great werewolf gave no response. It returned its attention to Professor Lupin and snarled. Professor Lupin was getting to his feet, shakily. He took one look at the jet-black werewolf and at once turned and bolted for the forest. The new werewolf looked back at the girls and its mouth opened.

“Rrrrrrrrrrrrun,” it growled.

Without another word, at least Harriet thought it was a word, the new werewolf tore off into the Forbidden Forest. Harriet saw Sirius getting to his four feet, wobbling. He had clearly taken a beating. Harriet now fully understood why it had taken three of them to keep a werewolf in check. And she also appreciated exactly why Professor Lupin had felt so guilty over how dangerous it had been.

There wasn’t time to dwell on that. “Sirius!” Harriet called and pointed in the direction Pettigrew had run. “Pettigrew transformed and ran for it! He went that way!”

Sirius growled and charged past Harriet, his nose low to the ground. As he passed, Harriet gasped. He had great gashes on his muzzle and back. It must have hurt terribly, but Sirius shrugged it off and went off after Pettigrew.

Harriet and Hermione moved to George’s side. His eyes were half-open, his mouth slack. If his chest wasn’t slowly rising and falling, Harriet would have thought him dead.

Hermione picked up the fallen form of Crookshanks, cuddling the fluffy cat like a baby. Her voice cracked. “Crookshanks… wake up…” She looked up at Harriet, her eyes full of tears even in the dim light of the moon.

“George…?” Ronnie was asking, shaking her brother’s shoulders.

“What did he do to them?” Dora asked.

Harriet shook her head. She looked up at Professor Snape’s unconscious form, still hanging in mid-air.

“We should get them to the castle,” Harriet said. “Get Professor Dumbledore and Daniel, they’ll know what to—”

There was a high-pitched yelping and whimpering in the distance that cut Harriet off. It was the sound of a dog in pain.

“Sirius,” Harriet said and jumped to her feet.

Ronnie and Dora were taking care of George. Hermione had Crookshanks. Sirius needed her now.

“Wait, Harriet!” Hermione cried.

Harriet heard the sound of Hermione’s feet running behind her but didn’t slow down. By the sound of it, the yelping was coming from the lake. As they approached, Harriet was too distracted to notice the growing chill.

Then the yelps and whines stopped. They reached the lakeshore and Harriet spotted Sirius. He had returned to human form, and was down on his elbows and knees, his hands over his head.

“ _Nooooo_ ,” Sirus moaned. “ _Noooo please!_ ”

Harriet saw them. At least a hundred of them. Cloaked and hooded, gliding towards them silently. Dementors.

Harriet drew her wand. She circled, pointing it at them, realizing the Dementors were closing in from all sides. They were surrounded. Harriet began to feel the cold taking over her. Her vision was growing foggy.

“Hermione, quick, think of something happy!” Harriet said, trying to clear her vision.

_I’m going to live with Sirius, I’m going to live with my father’s best friend! I’m leaving the Dursleys!_ Harriet thought, forcing herself to focus on Sirius as she began to chant the incantation.

“ _Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Sirius gasped and coughed, clutching his throat. He rolled over onto his back, limp and pale-faced.

_No!_ Harriet thought and focused harder.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ Hermione! Help! _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Hermione’s voice was barely a whisper as she gave the incantation. Then Harriet remembered. Hermione had not taken most of Professor Lupin’s patronus lessons with them.

The dementors were only ten feet away now. They were a solid wall all the way around them, shoulder to shoulder, impenetrable.

“ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!”_ Harriet shouted. She could hear the screaming now, distant but getting louder and louder. “ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ”

Harriet finally managed some silver-mist from the tip of her wand. There was a thumping noise and Harriet realized that Hermione had collapsed. Now she was alone, all alone against a hundred dementors.

Harriet fell to her knees. She could barely see. She put all her effort into keeping the bit of mist she had conjured going, repeating the incantation over and over and over again. The closest dementor halted at the edge of the mist. It raised one scabbed and rotted hand. It waved the hand back and forth, as if trying to wave the mist away.

Harriet could hear their terrible, rattling breathing, even through the screaming in her mind. Even if dementors couldn’t see, she felt as though they were all staring her down. The nearest dementor tilted its head, as if thinking, and finally lifted its hands, removing its hood.

It was the most horrible sight Harriet had ever seen. Thin, grey, scabbed skin stretched over what should have been the dementor’s eyes. More horrible than that, however, was its mouth. It was a wide, gaping maw, blacker than the dementor’s robes. With its hood down, the dementor’s breathing seemed louder, a blood-curdling death rattle.

Terror swept over Harriet, and finally, her patronus vanished. Harriet couldn’t think. She dropped her wand, useless. Instead she grabbed the only two things in reach that really mattered, Hermione and Sirius. She gripped their wrists hard but gasped and let go when a pair of strong, clammy hands gripped her neck tight and forced her head back, her mouth open.

It was going to finish her first. The dementors putrid breath washed over her face as it neared. Her mother’s screams filled her mind. It was going to be the last thing she ever heard.

Then, the dementor stopped. It let go of Harriet and she fell over on her side. The dementors were moving away, to the other side of the lake. Harriet looked in the direction they were moving. There was a faint glow of silver-white in the distance.

The dementors parted just enough. Harriet’s mind was a haze yet somehow she perceived. There were six people standing there, trying their best to keep a cloud of a patronus going around them. Three boys, two girls, and a werewolf. They looked to be young, and yet, familiar. There was a dark-haired boy standing next to a red-headed girl. Another boy with long black hair, another with short, lighter hair, a girl with blond, shoulder length hair and finally the light-furred werewolf. It put her in mind of Lupin, yet much younger, and somehow holding a wand. She looked at the dark haired boy and the red-haired girl.

“No…” Harriet managed to croak. “Mum… dad… run…” she moaned. “Sirius… Daniel… please don’t…”

The dementors were closing in. The patronus mist around the six was beginning to dissipate. The dementors were going to remove the greater threat. She was going to watch her parents and their best friends be kissed… worse than dead.

Harriet shut her eyes tight. Not from the horror of the sight, but from a blinding silver light that filled the clearing, bathing the scene in brightness. Harriet felt the darkness and the fog in her mind wash away. She was still weak, and she barely managed to open her eyes again. A great form, silver-white and radiating light was flashing through the dementors. The dementors were flailing their arms, pushing each other out of the way in attempts to escape the onslaught. Around and round the massive form went, tossing dementors aside with sweeps of its great head, or kicking them hard and sending them hurtling with its rear legs.

Finally, the dementors were gone. Harriet’s vision was hazy again, but not from the dementors. A great tiredness had swept over her, like warm relief, and Harriet could barely keep her head up and eyes open. The form moved to the middle of the lake. It was an animal of some kind, four legged and large. It reared up on its back legs, kicking its front ones in the air as if in triumph, and then it ran off into the darkness of the patch of trees along the lake between Harriet and the group that had first attempted to come to her aid.

Harriet couldn’t comprehend it anymore. She didn’t understand any of what happened. Her head fell back to the grass, her eyes closing, and her mind going blank as she fainted.


	28. The Patronus

“Love is not a guarantee of success, but it is a powerful motivator.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“Shocking business. Simply shocking. A miracle none of them died! Or worse! They certainly would have if you weren’t there, Professor Snape.”

“Thank you, Minister.”

“Order of Merlin, First Class. I guarantee it. Capturing Sirius Black; a truly admirable feat.”

“Thank you very much _indeed_ , Minister.”

“And Second Class at least I would say for Mr Dusk; rescuing Miss Quoy. I daresay Rufus might be agreeable to offering Mr Dusk his old post again. Yes, I can see the Prophet now, ‘ _Black Nightmare Over at Last_ ,’ and underneath ‘ _Ex-Auror’s Triumphant Return to Duty in Wake of Black’s Fall_ ,’I’d like to see Rita Skeeter put a negative spin on _that_.”

“…yes, Minister…”

“You still have no idea who it was who stunned you?”

“No, Minister.”

“I shudder to think of it being George Weasley. A boy from a family like that going so wrong.”

“Unlikely, Minister. I have a high enough opinion of myself that I cannot imagine a fifth year student, and a mediocre one at that, getting the better of me. Even by surprise. Furthermore, Weasley has had a known infatuation with Miss Quoy since her sorting, but has lacked the courage to act upon it. I feel it more likely that Weasley must have been acting in some misguided rescue attempt when he ran into Black in the grounds.”

“I see. Well, it may not have been the most _rational_ action but admirable nonetheless. Worthy of an award in his own right, I’d say.”

“…Indeed…”

“Though I can’t imagine what caused those girls to go out into the grounds tonight in the first place.”

“It is known that Potter and her friends are close acquaintances withHagrid. I imagine they had snuck out in an attempt to see him in commiseration over the execution of his hippogriff.”

“Ah, yes. That explains our discussion prior to the appeal. Touching, though pointless in the end. Very nearly tragically so.”

Harriet’s eyes fluttered, but did not open. They were much too heavy. In fact, every part of her felt like lead, sinking deep into the soft mattress beneath her. She felt as though her mind had become the inside of a crystal ball: swirling, opaque mist. The words she was hearing seemed to take a long time to process, as if coming from far away.

“Though what really amazes me most is the behaviour of the dementors. You’ve no idea what made them pull back?”

“None at all, Minister. They had returned to their posts by the time I came around.”

“Astounding. And yet Black and the girls…?”

“All three were unconscious by the time I got there. I restrained Black, conjured some stretchers, and brought them all up to the school.”

Harriet’s eyes finally opened. The whole world was fuzzy. She realized her glasses were off. She squinted, and as her mind cleared, she recognized the hospital wing. Harriet turned her head. The voices were coming from the doorway which was open just a crack.

“You’re awake!” said a hushed boy’s voice, very close-by.

Harriet looked back and saw Kieran and Dora sitting next to her. Dora put a finger to her lips and pointed to the door. “We’ve been listening in…”

Harriet could only nod but even that made her head swim. Kieran handed Harriet her glasses and she put them on. Hermione was awake on the bed next to Harriet, and Scott was sitting by Hermione’s bed.

Harriet looked past them to the end of the ward. Miss Momori was standing by a bed with her back to Harriet. Sitting either side of the bed were Erica, Ronnie, and Fred. Apparently George was still suffering from Pettigrew’s curse.

Madam Pomfrey came bustling over, carrying the biggest hunk of chocolate Harriet had ever seen. It was at least twice the size of Harriet’s head.

“Ah, you’re both awake,” Madam Pomfrey said. The bedside table rattled as Madam Pomfrey set the heavy chocolate boulder upon it. She promptly started breaking off bite-sized pieces with a small hammer and chisel.

“How’s George?” Harriet asked.

“He’ll live,” Madam Pomfrey said, grimly. “As for you two, I’m afraid—Potter? What are you doing?”

Harriet sat up in the bed. She spotted her wand on the table next to her and picked it up. “I gotta see Professor Dumbledore right away!”

“Potter, Potter,” Madam Pomfrey soothed, “it’s alright. Black has been caught. He’s locked away safely upstairs. By the sound of it they’ll be performing the Kiss any minute now—”

“WHAT?!”

Harriet jumped off the bed. She started for the door but the sound of her voice had alerted the two men in the hall and they entered.

“Harriet, Harriet, what’s this?” Fudge said. “You should be in bed in your condition! Has she had any chocolate, Madam Pomfrey?”

“Minister, please listen!” Harriet said. “Sirius Black is innocent! Peter Pettigrew is alive! He’s an animagus! He can turn into a rat! He faked his death—twice! We saw him! You can’t let the dementors kiss Sirius!”

Fudge shook his head; a small, sad smile on his face.

“Harriet, my dear, you’re very confused. You have been through a dreadful ordeal tonight. Now please, lie back down and let the adults handle everything.”

“BUT YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!” Harriet shouted. “SIRIUS WASN’T MY PARENTS' SECRETKEEPER! IT WAS PETER PETTIGREW!”

“Yes, please listen, Minister,” Hermione said as she hurried to Harriet’s side. “I saw him too, so did Dora and Ronnie and Erica and George! George will tell you everything when he wakes up!”

“You see, Minister? Confunded, all of them.”

“We haven’t been Confunded!” Dora said, joining them.

“Oy! Are you calling my little sister touched in the head?!” Fred demanded, having come over too.

“Of course they haven’t been Confunded,” came another voice. It was Daniel. Harriet felt hope grow at the sight of him.

“Mister Dusk!” Madam Pomfrey said. “I am attempting to vacate this room!”

“Yes, the effects can be subtle but there are tests for Confunding,” Daniel said, ignoring Madam Pomfrey as he strode up to the two men. “I was there. I can verify every bit of Black’s story and it corroborates completely with the girls’ story. I was the one who brought Miss Quoy back to the school safely, was I not? I _was_ there in that room to hear everything, unlike _some_ ,” Daniel finished shooting Professor Snape a dirty look. “And if you think Black was able to Confund five girls _and_ me?”

“Oh yes, the testimony of an old friend, that’s surely an unbiased tale,” Professor Snape sneered.

Daniel rounded on Professor Snape, pointing a finger in his face. “Any more than the testimony of someone with a known grudge against the accused?”

“For an incident that should incriminate him more!”

“Oh, so you admit your bias against him then?”

A strange look passed between the two men. Daniel’s was oddly triumphant, and Professor Snape’s was livid. He took a step towards Daniel but Fudge moved between them.

“GENTLEMEN!” Fudge bellowed. “That is enough!”

“Yes it is!” Madam Pomfrey shouted over them. “I must insist that you all leave! These students are my patients and I will not have them distressed!

“I’m not distressed!” Harriet shouted. “I’m pissed off! I’m trying to get them to listen!”

“What is going on over here?” Miss Momori had joined the fray. “George Weasley has been left in a very fragile state and I need full concentration to revive him properly!”

Madam Pomfrey then took advantage of Harriet’s distraction to shove a large chunk of chocolate in her mouth and began leading her back to the bed. “Now, that is enough from all of you! These children need care! Minister, gentlemen, please leave—”

Harriet heard the door open again. She managed to swallow her mouthful of chocolate without choking and looked back to see Professor Dumbledore and Professor Howe enter the room. The two men were a stark contrast to each other. Professor Dumbledore’s expression was grim and determined. Professor Howe however was projecting his typical relaxed, carefree confidence. Warm relief swept over Harriet and she spun out of Madam Pomfrey’s grasp.

“Professor Dumbledore! Professor Howe! Sirius Black—”

“For goodness’ sake!” Madam Pomfrey cried, growing hysterical. “This is a hospital wing! Headmaster, I must insist—”

“I do apologize, Poppy, but I’m afraid I must have a word with Misses Potter and Granger,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly. “We’ve just spoken with Sirius Black and—”

“And I suppose he fed you the same fairy tale he’s planted in the girls’ minds… something about Black being innocent and Pettigrew being alive; a rat or something?”

“Yes, that is Black’s story,” Professor Howe said.

“And what of my own evidence?” Professor Snape snarled, shooting Daniel an angry glare. “I saw no sign of Peter Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack nor in the grounds.”

“But you _did_ see the rat, didn’t you?” Daniel asked.

“What of it? It was a rat for all I saw.”

“And what _exactly_ was it doing in a cage, desperately trying to escape if it was simply Ronnie’s pet…?”

“That’s still no evidence that it was secretly a long-dead wizard in disguise!”

“But that’s just because you’d been stunned, Professor!” Hermione insisted. “You didn’t hear everything—”

“Miss Granger, like I told you in the Shack, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!”

“Now see here, Professor!” Fudge said, alarmed. “The young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances!”

“I’m afraid Professor Howe and I need to speak to Miss Potter and Miss Granger alone,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I wish to further question my students as to the events of tonight. Miss Potter, Miss Granger, if you would follow—”

“What about Ronnie and me?” Dora asked, looking mutinous. “We were there too!”

“Yeah, we saw—” Ronnie said but was cut off when Professor Dumbledore held up a hand to her.

“I will speak to you two after, I assure you. Miss Potter, Miss Granger, please follow me. Cornelius, we will be in the classroom just around the corner. We will return momentarily.”

“Very well, Albus, very well,” Fudge said, checking his pocket-watch.

Harriet noted that he was now referring to Professor Dumbledore by his first name. With a sickening feeling in her stomach she knew it must be because he was in a good mood over Sirius’ capture and impending doom. Professor Dumbledore turned to the door but Professor Snape stepped forward, actually grabbing Professor Dumbledore’s arm to stop him.

“You can’t seriously believe a word of Black’s story,” he snarled.

“I wish to speak to Harriet and Hermione alone,” Professor Dumbledore said simply.

“Black proved he was capable of murder at sixteen,” Professor Snape growled. “You haven’t forgotten he once tried to kill me!”

“Yes, my memory is quite as good as it ever was, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore replied. He turned and moved away toward the door, his arm slipping from Professor Snape’s grasp.

Harriet and Hermione exchanged glances and followed Professor Dumbledore and Professor Howe from the room. They stepped into the empty classroom and Professor Howe closed the door behind them.

“Professor, you believe us?” Harriet asked at once, her heart full of hope that Professor Dumbledore was going to prove their case for them.

“Yes, I do. And now it is critically important that you listen to every word I’m about to say to you _very_ carefully. Firstly, Harriet, you must understand something.”

“Sir?” Harriet asked.

“We don’t have a single hope of clearing Sirius’ name tonight,” Professor Howe said.

“What?!” Harriet asked, spinning around to look at him. “But we saw Pettigrew! It was him who attacked George, not Sirius! He’s an animagus!”

“Harriet, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said, “please listen. At the moment, we do not have a shred of proof to support Black’s story, except your word. And that will not be enough to convince Fudge to rescind Sirius’ sentence. A whole street full of eye-witnesses swore they saw Sirius kill Pettigrew. I myself gave the evidence to the Ministry that Sirius was your parents’ secret keeper—”

“But Professor Lupin and Daniel—”

“Professor Lupin is currently in the Forbidden Forest being kept at bay by Professor Stratton, unable to tell anyone anything. He will not be human again until it is much too late. As for Mr Dusk, he is an old friend of Sirius’, and while his testimony will be important it is not enough in the short-term.”

“But—”

“ _You must listen to me_ , Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said. “It is too late. At the present, Professor Snape’s story is much more convincing than yours.”

“But he hates Sirius,” Hermione added. “All because of that stupid trick.”

“Yes, that is why we had Daniel point that out to Fudge to poison the well with him, so to speak. But it will take time and more evidence to bear out. And we don’t have that much _time_ to waste,” Professor Howe said.

“Furthermore, Sirius has not acted as an innocent man. Breaking out of Azkaban in the first place. Breaking into the school and attacking the Fat Lady. Entering Gryffindor tower with a knife. Kidnapping Miss Quoy and then you. Without Pettigrew, we have no chance of staying Sirius’ sentence tonight,” Professor Dumbledore explained.

“ _But you believe us!_ ” Harriet moaned, hopelessness starting to fill her.

“Yes, we do,” Professor Howe said. “But we are logical men who are open to reason.”

“Yet we do not have the power to make other men see reason, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore explained. “Nor to overrule the Minister of Magic. That is going to take some _time._ ”

Harriet felt equal sadness and anger welling up inside her. She had long gotten used to the idea that Professors Dumbledore and Howe could do anything on their own, let alone together. Surely the two of them together could do something; anything!

“We have evidence, it’s thin, but we can get more,” Professor Howe said. “What we lack at the present, as Albus said, is _time_.”

“Yes,” Professor Dumbledore said. “So, what we need is, of course, _more_ time.”

“More time?” Harriet asked. “What—”

But Professor Dumbledore’s gaze had turned to Hermione now. He gave her a very significant look and Hermione looked puzzled at first but then her eyes and mouth snapped wide open as if she’d been struck by sudden inspiration.

“Now, pay attention,” Professor Dumbledore said, speaking very clearly. “Sirius is being held in Professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor, thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save two innocent lives tonight, rather than one. But most importantly, you must both remember this: _you must not be seen_. Hermione, you know the law, and you know what is at stake. _You—must—not—be—seen_.”

Harriet was completely dumbstruck by this. Hermione was fumbling with the front of her shirt. She pulled out a long, thin, golden chain with a small hourglass charm dangling from it.

“It is five minutes to midnight,” Professor Howe said, checking his pocket watch.

“Yes, three turns I think should be sufficient, Miss Granger,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Three turns? What?” Harriet asked but at that moment, Hermione distracted her by throwing the long chain around Harriet’s neck too.

“And just as important,” Professor Howe said, leaning down and looking both girls in the eyes. “Don’t be afraid. You’re not doing anything tonight that hasn’t been done before.”

Harriet blinked, completely nonplussed.

“Ready?” Hermione asked. Outside there came the sound of Peeves’ cackling as he passed the door.

“Quick, go,” Professor Howe said.

Hermione flipped the hourglass over three times. At the same time, there was a frantic knock on the door. Harriet didn’t get time to process that however. At that moment, the world dissolved around them. Harriet felt as though she was flying backwards, at a blinding speed. It felt as though she was riding on Epeius again, only in reverse.

Then it stopped. The world came back into sharp focus. They were no longer in the classroom with Professors Dumbledore and Howe. They were now in the Entrance Hall. There was the sound of students eating in the Great Hall. She looked at Hermione who was tucking the hourglass on the gold chain back down her shirt.

“Quick!” Hermione said, grabbing Harriet’s hand and pulling her towards the broom cupboard. Hermione pulled the door open, pushed Harriet inside, and climbed in after her. She slammed the door shut behind them and panted, leaning against the wall amongst the mops and brooms.

“Okay, Hermione, what the hell’s happening?” Harriet demanded.

“We’ve gone back in time,” Hermione hissed, putting her ear to the door. “Three hours back.”

Harriet blinked. “You’re joking.”

“No I’m not,” Hermione snapped and shushed Harriet. “Someone will hear us!”

Harriet gawked feeling completely bewildered. She gave her thigh a hard pinch and winced as it hurt a great deal. _Okay… so… not dreaming_ , Harriet thought.

“Someone’s coming,” Hermione said. “I think it’s us.”

“What?”

“Shh! Yes, it’s us. We’re moving slowly because we’re under the invisibility cloak. Listen.”

Hermione grabbed Harriet’s shoulder and pulled her to the door. Harriet leaned against the door and listened. Sure enough, there was the faint sound of feet moving slowly across the hall, passing them moving towards the entrance.

“Are you telling me that we’re here in this cupboard and out there too?” Harriet whispered.

“Shhh!”

There was the clicking of the latch and the creak of the door swinging open.

“What the devil?”

“Coulda swore I heard it click shut.”

“Okay, this is officially bizarre,” Harriet muttered. She turned away from the door and looked down at Hermione who was now sitting on an upturned bucket, deep in thought. “Hermione, where did you get that hourglass thing?”

“It’s called a Time-Turner. It sends you back in time; one hour for each turn. I got it at the start of the year from Professor McGonagall and I’ve been using it to get to my classes.”

“Oh, well that finally explains the whole ‘two classes at once’ thing,” Harriet said.

“Professor McGonagall told me not to tell anyone about it. She had to write all sorts of reference letters to the Ministry for me; about being a model student and that I’d never use it for anything other than my studies. But Harriet, what is it Professor Dumbledore wants us to _do_? Why did he send us back three hours?”

“Well… we just heard ourselves heading down to Hagrid’s…” Harriet said, sitting next to Hermione and thinking hard. “And Dumbledore said we’d be able to save two innocent lives instead of just one,” Harriet gasped. “Hermione! We’re going to save Buckbeak!”

“What?!” Hermione exclaimed. “But how’s that going to help Sirius?”

“Professor Dumbledore told us where the window to Professor Flitwick’s office is! Buckbeak can _fly_! We can fly Buckbeak up to Flitwick’s office and they can escape together!”

“Brilliant!” Hermione said though her excitement was quickly stifled by worry. “But how are we going to manage that without being seen? How are we even going to get out the front door with the Aurors there?”

“I don’t know,” Harriet said.

She opened the door just a crack. The entrance was still closed. Harriet groaned in frustration but stopped when the door opened. She blinked as Professor Howe stepped in through the door, looking around. Harriet then gasped as his eyes settled on their cupboard and he smiled. Then, he turned back to the two guards at the door.

“By the way, Savage, how’s your family?” he asked.

“Oh, very well sir, very well! My son’s just begun his own examinations to enter the Auror office himself don’t you know?”

“Has he really!” Professor Howe said. “Actually, would you two mind joining me for a drink in the Great Hall? I don’t think anyone will grudge you a short chat and a nice iced pumpkin juice after so long on duty.”

“Ah, thanks very much, sir!”

The two Aurors came inside and followed Sherrod towards the Great Hall. As Harriet watched, the Aurors pulled the doors shut and locked them. However, the moment they turned their backs, Professor Howe drew his wand and flicked it at the door behind his back. The door latch unlocked itself. Professor Howe glanced back at the cupboard, gave one of this tiny trademark winks, and entered the Great Hall with the Aurors.

“Come on,” Harriet hissed to Hermione. “Professor Howe left the door unlocked for us!”

Harriet and Hermione snuck to the door. Harriet pushed and sure enough, the door swung open. She winced as it creaked, but no one came to investigate. Harriet and Hermione both snuck out the door and pushed it closed behind them.

“Wait,” Hermione said drawing her wand. “We have to lock it again so the Aurors don’t get suspicious when they come back.” She locked the door and turned back around.

“Okay, let’s run for it,” Harriet said and started running across the grounds towards Hagrid’s. “To the greenhouses! We can sneak behind them and into the forest!”

“We’re probably at Hagrid’s by now!” Hermione panted.

It took a moment for what Hermione said to sink in, but Harriet put it out of her mind as she hopped the fence to the greenhouse gardens and paused behind them. They caught their breath and checked to make sure no one had seen them. Convinced they had got that far scot-free, they continued, running as fast as they could into the forest.

Once safely in the trees, both girls doubled over catching their breath.

“Got… out of… shape… again…” Hermione panted.

“Whoever’s captain… next year… needs to start a physical training program,” Harriet replied.

“Okay… let’s sneak over to Hagrid’s,” Hermione said.

They stayed just inside the edge of the forest. The hut just came into sight as they heard the knock on the door. Harriet and Hermione ducked behind a large oak and peered around either side. Harriet watched Hagrid open his door, looking around in confusion at his apparently empty front step. Harriet jumped as she clearly heard her own voice.

“It’s us. We’re under the cloak. Let us in so we can take it off.”

“I told yeh not ter come.”

“Okay,” Harriet whispered. “This is officially the _weirdest_ thing we’ve ever done.”

“Let’s move around to the back, we need to be as close to Buckbeak as we can get,” Hermione said.

They moved around to the back of Hagrid’s hut. Harriet saw Buckbeak standing in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, tugging unhappily at the rope tethering him to Hagrid’s fence.

“Now?” Harriet asked.

“Not yet,” Hermione said. “If we take him now the Committee will think Hagrid set him free and he’ll be in even more trouble.”

“What do we do then?”

“We wait until the committee members see that Beaky’s still here.”

“That’ll give us a minute at most!”

“I know,” Hermione whispered. “But we’ve got to try—” There was a crashing sound from inside the hut. “—that’s Hagrid breaking the milk jug. I’m going to find Scabbers again in a minute.”

Harriet wasn’t paying much attention. Instead, she was thinking of something Professor Howe had told them before they’d gone back in time. What had Professor Howe meant by them not doing anything that hadn’t been done before?

She heard Hermione’s own shriek from inside the hut. “That’s me finding Scabbers.”

Harriet scratched her cheek thinking. “Hermione, what if we just, you know, ran in and grabbed—”

“No!” Hermione hissed. “We’re breaking one of the most important Wizarding laws! Nobody’s supposed to change time! Nobody! You heard Dumbledore, we can’t be seen!”

“Well we already broke that with Professor Howe!”

“He doesn’t count! I bet Professor Dumbledore had already planned for me to come back in time to save Buckbeak. I suppose he told Professor Howe about it. They _are_ old friends, after all. Professor Howe must have come to serve as the distraction so we could get out.”

“I-I guess that makes sense,” Harriet muttered. “But, if we went in now, we’d only be seen by ourselves wouldn’t we? It’d be shocking at first but—”

“Harriet, what do you think you’d do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid’s hut?” Hermione said.

“Well, I guess I’d think I’d gone mad, or there was some dark magic going on.”

“Exactly! You might even attack yourself. That’s why the Ministry keeps such a close tab on time-travel, because of the horrible things that have happened when witches and wizards first discovered it. It’s highly likely we, as a society, have had to re-discover it several times!”

“How?” Harriet blinked.

“Because of how likely it is wizards have gone back in time, scared their past selves and got in fights and killed their past selves. Once you’ve killed your past self, you erase having ever gone back in time in the first place! Who knows what things were changed by accident because of time travel. That’s why Time-Turners work like they do, only going back in hour increments. It makes it more difficult to go back too far in time and risk changing too much.”

Harriet tried to process this but Hermione nudged her and pointed to the school entrance. Professor Dumbledore, Fudge, Macnair, and the committee member were walking down the steps towards Hagrid’s hut.

“Wait, where’s Professor Howe?” Harriet asked.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “Shhh, here we come!”

The back door to Hagrid’s cabin opened. Harriet gave her head a shake at the bizarre sight of herself, Hermione, Dora, and Ronnie, walking out with Hagrid.

“’Sokay, Beaky, ‘sokay,” Hagrid said, calming the still unsettled looking Buckbeak. “Go on, get goin’. I don’t want yer hearing this, you got me? Nor seein’.”

“But Hagrid,” the Harriet in the pumpkin patch protested.

“No! It’s bad enough without you lot in trouble too. Go!”

Harriet watched Dora throw the cloak over their heads and heard the knock at the door.

“Go quick. Don’t listen.”

Hagrid went back inside but he didn’t close the back door behind him. Harriet watched the grass flattening in little foot-sized patches, moving around the other side of the cabin. With the door open, Harriet and Hermione could now hear what was going on inside the cabin.

“Where is the beast?” asked a cold voice Harriet took to be the executioner’s.

“Out-outside.”

Harriet ducked back behind the tree as Macnair’s face appeared in Hagrid’s rear window, staring at Buckbeak. Even if her glimpse of him was brief, Harriet’s stomach was unsettled at the look of hunger on Macnair’s face.

“Well, first things first,” Fudge said. “We have to read the official notice of execution. I’ll make it quick, Hagrid, a-and then you and Macnair will need to sign. Macnair, you’re supposed to listen too.”

Macnair’s face pulled away from the window and Harriet steeled her courage.

“Now or never,” Harriet said. Let’s go!”

Harriet and Hermione darted out from behind the tree and vaulted the fence. Buckbeak shifted uneasily as the two girls approached him.

“ _It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall be executed on the ninth of June at sundown_ —”

Harriet and Hermione stepped up to Buckbeak. Harriet forced herself not to blink as she looked up into Buckbeak’s formidable face. His great orange eyes seemed to burn as they looked down at her. Once more, Professor Howe’s words floated to the front of Harriet’s mind: _Don’t be afraid. You’re not doing anything tonight that hasn’t been done before._

Harriet and Hermione bowed. With no hesitation, Buckbeak bowed back. They rose as one and Harriet immediately started untying Buckbeak from the fence.

“— _sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee’s appointed executioner, Walden Macnair—_ ”

“Come on, Buckbeak, move,” Harriet grunted as quietly as she could as she and Hermione pulled on the rope. “We’re trying to help you, you have to come with us! But quietly!”

“— _as witnessed below_. Hagrid, you sign here.”

Harriet and Hermione threw all their weight on the rope but Buckbeak sunk his front claws into the soft soil of the pumpkin patch.

“Well, let’s just get this over with then,” the reedy voiced Committee member said, sounding quite bored with the proceedings. “Hagrid, perhaps it would be better if you stayed inside?”

“No, no I—I want ter be with ‘im. Don’ want ‘im to be alone.”

“ _Beaky move!_ ” Hermione hissed tugging her hardest yet. Finally, Buckbeak began to move forward. Inside the cabin, Harriet could hear footsteps. She started to feel panic rising. They still had ten feet to go before they were in the woods.

“One moment, please, Macnair. You need to sign too,” Professor Dumbledore said from inside the hut.

The footsteps stopped and Harriet heaved a sigh of relief. Buckbeak snapped his beak irritably but he picked up the pace as both girls continued to frantically pull him towards the woods. Finally, they were in the trees and out of sight. Both girls collapsed on their backs on the forest floor, breathing heavily, but not letting go of Buckbeak’s tether.

The next thing they heard was the back door to Hagrid’s cabin banging wide open. There was a moment’s silence.

“Wh-where is it? Where is the beast?” the Committee member asked.

“It was tied here!” Macnair exclaimed. Harriet could hear his heavy boots stomping around the pumpkin patch, frantically. “Just here! I just saw it!”

“Extraordinary,” Professor Dumbledore said. Harriet couldn’t help but notice the distinct note of amusement in Dumbledore’s voice.

“B-Beaky?” Hagrid spluttered.

There was a swish and heavy thud. By the sound of it, Macnair had swung his axe into one of the fence-posts in rage. Now came Hagrid’s howls, but this time Harriet could hear him perfectly.

“Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he’s gone! Beaky, ya clever boy! Musta pulled ‘imself free!”

Harriet and Hermione had to get back to their feet quickly and hold tight to the rope as Buckbeak tried to run back to Hagrid.

“Someone untied him!” Macnair snarled. “We should search the grounds! The forest!”

“Well that would be silly of you,” came the voice of Professor Howe, finally. “Who’d lead away a ride-able, flying animal on foot? Never mind that even on foot I’m fairly sure a hippogriff could out-run you.”

“You! It was you, wasn’t it?” Macnair growled, his voice thick with anger and accusation.

“Goodness, Fudge, is this the kind of person you hire at the Ministry these days? I’m all for finding joy in your work, but some jobs do require a modicum of decency and dignity don’t they? And maybe a bit less bloodlust. But to answer your accusation, I arrived a mere twenty minutes ago,” Professor Howe said. “I spoke with the guards and stopped into the Great Hall to speak with the newly finished NEWT students about their career ambitions. But by the looks of it, I was not late, and now think some celebration is in order instead.”

“Yes that sounds like a _marvellous_ idea, Sherrod. Come Hagrid, I could certainly do with a cup of tea, or a large brandy if you would find that agreeable?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Of-of course, Perfesser,” Hagrid said, his voice trembling with happiness. “Come in! Come in! An’ you too, Perfesser Howe, the more the merrier!”

“Celebrate! See, more evidence you did something!” Macnair snarled.

“That is one conclusion. But the more likely conclusion is I disapproved of this morbid affair from the start, and now that it has somehow been subverted, I am going to rejoice with my friends here. Perhaps you could use a drink yourself, Macnair? You look to be wound a little too tight.”

Harriet and Hermione continued to listen closely. They heard the sound of footsteps as the men filed back into the hut and the door slammed loudly.

“Okay, that’s done,” Harriet said. “Now what?”

“We’ll have to hide in here,” Hermione said. “We have to wait until it’s safe to fly Buckbeak up to Professor Flitwick’s office to help Sirius.” Hermione looked at her watch and grimaced. “And he’s not going to be there for almost three hours…”

Harriet groaned. The forest was getting darker and darker as the sun began to set. “We’ll have to move,” she said. “We gotta keep the Willow in sight so we’ll know what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Hermione said.

They headed back, skirting the edge of the grounds again, back the way they had come. Buckbeak trotted along after them now, though he still seemed displeased at being tethered.

“Oh, there’s you!” Hermione said pointing towards the grounds.

Harriet stopped and looked. Harriet’s sense of bemusement continued as she watched herself running across the grounds. Next, Hermione, Ronnie, and Dora all appeared, trailing Harriet’s cloak behind them as they gave chase. The Harriet in the grounds dived and the ginger blur of Crookshanks as he pounced in his attempt to get at Scabbers, Harriet trying to shake him off.

Then, came Sirius. The black dog was tearing across the grounds towards the girls with great speed. Harriet winced at the sight of Sirius grabbing the hood of her hoodie, dragging her across the ground. She could see herself flailing and hitting Sirius’ side.

“Wow, I really didn’t have a chance, did I?” Harriet muttered as Sirius darted among the swinging branches and pulled Harriet into the tunnel.

“No…” Hermione said in a quiet voice.

Harriet winced watching the scene continue. It looked even worse from here, seeing her friends trying to get to her and failing, being pummelled by the violent tree. Harriet was touched they were trying so hard, but she didn’t appreciate seeing them being knocked around.

Then all at once the tree stopped.

“That was Crookshanks,” Hermione said. “And there we go, we’re all in now.”

Not a minute later, there was the sound of the door to Hagrid’s hut closing. Harriet saw Professors Dumbledore and Howe, along with Fudge, Macnair, and the Committee member heading back to the castle.

“Oh, we only missed them by seconds,” Hermione moaned. “If only Dumbledore and Howe had come with us…”

“Yeah, and Fudge would’ve come to… and Macnair… bet you anything Fudge would have ordered Macnair to kill Sirius on sight…”

They fell silent as the group of men reached the doors. The group paused and chatted for a while with the Aurors and finally everyone, the Aurors included, went inside.

They sat in silence a few minutes more and Harriet pointed to the doors. “There comes Professor Lupin and Daniel!”

Sure enough, the two men were sprinting down the steps and across the grounds. In their haste they ran right past Harriet’s cloak. Harriet saw Daniel’s arm point at the tree and a fallen branch lifted up and shot to the tree’s trunk. It hit the tree and fell but the tree stopped flailing almost as soon as it started.

“Wow,” Hermione said as the two men slid into the hole in the roots. “That was impressive…”

“Well, he was an Auror,” Harriet said. For some reason, Harriet felt a small swell of pride from hearing Hermione praise Daniel.

At that moment, her attention drifted back to the cloak.

“Wait… the cloak’s just lying right there…” Harriet said thoughtfully. “I could stop all of this right now if I just ran out and grabbed—”

“No!” Hermione interrupted. “You can’t!”

“Why not?” Harriet asked. “If I grab it now, Professor Snape won’t be able to get it and—”

“Harriet you can’t be seen!”

“But no one’s around!”

“Look!”

Hermione pointed and just then someone began singing loudly. Harriet looked and saw Hagrid making his way back up to the castle. He was swaying a little and singing at the top of his voice, something about some wizard named Odo.

“ _An’ Odo the hero, they bore him back home…”_

“See,” Hermione hissed. “We’ve got to keep out of—no, Buckbeak!”

The hippogriff had just begun trying to head after Hagrid. He dragged both Hermione and Harriet a few feet before they wrapped the tether around a tree and managed to stop him. Hagrid entered the castle and Buckbeak finally stopped tugging, instead drooping his head and emitting soft, sad coos and twitters. Hermione moved up next to the hippogriff and patted his big beak sympathetically.

“Sorry, Buckbeak,” Hermione said.

Within minutes of Hagrid’s disappearance, Professor Snape came bursting out of the doors too. As he ran, Harriet was impressed to see that George had not been lying, he was right behind Professor Snape. They didn’t look more than twenty feet apart.

Professor Snape skidded to a halt at Harriet’s invisibility cloak. George stopped too and froze like a statue. He remained motionless, standing right in the middle of the grounds as Professor Snape bent down, picked up the cloak, and held it out to inspect. Harriet felt her hands clench with an odd sense of jealousy as Professor Snape looked over the cloak.

Professor Snape began running again. George seemed to deflate in apparent relief before he resumed following. Professor Snape stopped at the edge of the tree’s reach and pointed his wand at the limbs instead of the trunk. One of the branches snapped off the tree and the tree began flailing even more angrily. Professor Snape flicked his wand again and the branch shot through the swinging branches and hit the knot. Professor Snape ran to the base, threw the cloak over himself and disappeared.

George made his way up to the tree and drew his own wand. He crept forward more cautiously, crouching at the entrance. Harriet supposed he was listening for Professor Snape. Finally, he slid in too and disappeared.

“Well, that’s it,” Hermione said. “We’re all in. Now we’ve just got to wait until we come back out again…”

Hermione took the end of the rope tethering Buckbeak and tied it off to the tree. Then she sat down on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest and watching the grounds. Harriet sat next to her.

“Harriet… there’s something I don’t get,” Hermione said. “What happened with the Dementors? Why didn't they get Sirius? I remember them closing in on us and then I think I passed out?”

Harriet went about explaining. She got to the part where the silvery animal had driven off the dementors. It wasn’t the animal that made her pause, it was the figures she had seen across the lake. At the time, she had taken them all for her parents and the rest of the Marauders. All except Pettigrew, none of them had really seemed to be Pettigrew.

“Well, it certainly seems you two have had an adventure all your own then.”

Harriet and Hermione spun around and Buckbeak gave a squawk of surprise. Professor Howe was standing right behind them, leaning against a tree.

“Professor!” Harriet said getting to her feet. “How did you find us?”

Professor Howe chucked. “Well I have been trying to find you for about fifteen minutes,” he said looking at his watch. “Albus expected you to be back by now. However, over hearing your story, I take it the plan changed somewhere along the line?”

“Umm, well,” Harriet said. “What _was_ the plan?”

“Well, Miss Granger was to take one of you back to sneak Buckbeak out of danger and then return to the school with a perfect alibi, leaving Buckbeak in the woods for me to collect and take back to Rathlin with me.”

“Oh, yeah, it changed a lot then… ummm… well…” Harriet muttered trying to find the words.

“But in the meantime, I take it you ran into Sirius, he is currently in the Shrieking Shack revealing the secret of Pettigrew’s continued existence, and then I’m guessing shortly Pettigrew will manage to escape, Sirius will be nearly captured by the Dementors, a patronus rescues you all, and in a few hours you will be using Buckbeak as a means of rescuing him from Fudge’s clutches?” Professor Howe said.

“Y-yes, more or less,” Hermione said. She was looking up at Professor Howe with a very star-struck expression.

“Well, I will let you get on with that then,” Professor Howe said. He smiled and turned to walk away but Harriet stopped him.

“Wait!” she demanded, standing up and stamping a foot. “You knew all along, you knew Sirius was innocent, you knew Pettigrew was alive, you knew the dog was him in Privet Drive, and you never told me!”

Professor Howe stopped and turned back to Harriet. He walked up to her and bent down resting his hands on his knees so he was face to face with Harriet, looking at her earnestly.

“I am sorry, Harriet. Revealing something as incredible as Sirius’ innocence was going to require incredible amounts of proof. You would never have believed me if I had told you that night that someone you surely considered a murderer was following us. All that mattered in that moment was getting you somewhere safe and loving… I was not saving you from Sirius Black that night, I was saving you from further mental harm.”

Harriet flushed a little.

“As for Pettigrew. No, I did not know that he was still alive. Not until I saw the photograph. But I certainly did not think that Sirius had betrayed your father. However, no one was going to take me seriously if I just stormed into the Auror office and declared once more that Sirius was innocent and Pettigrew was alive. It was going to take something more subtle. I knew the best course was giving Sirius the necessary information. I know he is an animagus, and I knew it would be his best chance of escaping Azkaban. No one in the world had more right to reveal Pettigrew than Sirius. No one deserved to take that away from him.”

Professor Howe now smiled at Harriet again. “Though, if you were to ask me… I don’t think I did keep the truth from you.”

“Sir?” Harriet asked.

“Well, if you were to ask me, I don’t really think the same girl I was with that night is standing before me right now. The girl I was with that night was afraid, uncertain, lost. But that’s not the same girl I see before me, tonight. Tonight I see a girl determined to do what’s right, and unafraid to take great risks to see that justice is done.”

Harriet flushed even brighter.

“Now, I should get back before anyone gets too concerned over where I am. In the meantime, no matter what else happens tonight, don’t be afraid. Either of you. You’re not about to do anything tonight you haven’t already done.”

He bowed low to the two girls one more time, Buckbeak bowed back as well, before rising again. Without another word, he turned and walked back into the trees. He moved into a shadow and vanished from sight.

“Did… did that just happen…?” Hermione asked, sounding dumbstruck.

“Um, I’m pretty sure,” Harriet said. “He kinda has that effect…”

“He’s everything the books always said he was,” Hermione went on.

She was starting to sound like she had the previous year when speaking of Professor Lockhart. Harriet briefly considered teasing her about it, but even she had to admit that as fancies went, Professor Howe was a night-and-day improvement over Lockhart.

The two girls turned back to face the Willow and sat once more. They sat in silence for a long time while Buckbeak snuffled around them, oblivious to the tension and worry, apparently looking for worms. Suddenly, Harriet’s mind connected the dots.

“That’s what he meant!” Harriet exclaimed.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Everything we’ve done tonight, we’ve all done it already!”

“How do you mean?”

“Buckbeak! Remember when we heard the axe before?”

“Yes?”

“That was still Macnair hitting the post! We didn’t change Buckbeak dying, he never died, because we’d already gone back in time, that’s why Professor Dumbledore said we’d save two lives instead of just one!” Harriet gave Hermione a quizzical look. “How come I get this and you don’t? You’re the one who’s been using that thing all year.”

Hermione glared but suddenly her eyes went wide. “You’re right! I just remembered! Remember when we were waiting in the corridor and we heard those last two people and a door slamming? That was us! We heard ourselves!”

“You’re right!” Harriet said, remembering. She turned and looked up in the direction of Professor Flitwick’s office. “We’re gonna do it…”

“But, how can we really know?” Hermione said. “We saved Buckbeak, yes, but we haven’t saved Sirius yet, and we can’t know if we saved him before now, or, after…”

“Heh, I suppose it still gets confusing even after having done so much time-travelling?”

“You have no idea,” Hermione said. “I think I’m going to turn it in after this year.”

“Why?” Harriet asked.

“It’s driving me mad!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’ve seen how worn out I’ve been all year. If I just drop one more class, on top of having dropped Divination, I can have a normal time-table again, and I’ll have time to start up lacrosse next year.”

Harriet smiled. “Nice to know you still want to keep that going.”

Hermione smiled too. “Yeah, I suppose I am a bit stubborn like that.”

Harriet laughed. The two girls fell silent again and resumed waiting and watching. Finally, there was movement in the grounds.

“There goes Daniel and Erica, we’ll be coming out soon,” Hermione said.

Harriet and Hermione got to their feet. Buckbeak, who had given up hunting for worms and been dozing, lifted his head and looked around. A large, black cat shot out of the tunnel and across the grounds, moving too quickly for the tree to hit. It stopped at the edge of the tree’s reach and Harriet watched Erica slide off of Daniel’s back. Daniel returned to human form and both went running up to the castle.

Ten minutes later, Professor Lupin, Pettigrew, and George climbed out awkwardly. Then came Sirius and the remaining girls, the unconscious Professor Snape floating before them. At that moment, the moon came out from behind the cloud.

“Uh… Hermione…”

“What?”

“Uh… isn’t this the part of the forest Professor Lupin ran into after Professor Stratton came?”

“Oh no!” Hermione gasped. “You’re right! Where are we going to hide?!”

“Back to Hagrid’s,” Harriet said. “It’s empty now!”

“Quick!” Hermione squeaked and they untied Buckbeak as fast as they could and ran towards the hut.

They could hear Professor Lupin snarling and yowling nearby. Harriet stopped at the door and flung it open. Hermione and Buckbeak shot inside and Harriet followed, pulling the door shut as fast as she could. Both girls were panting again but Buckbeak simply trotted over to Hagrid’s fireplace, walked around in three little circles before settling down and curling up to take a nap.

“Well, nice to know he’s taking this seriously,” Harriet muttered, sitting in one of Hagrid’s chairs, catching her breath.

“He’s an animal, Harriet,” Hermione said. “He doesn’t understand.”

“I know, I know,” Harriet said.

Getting her breath back, Harriet moved to the window, looking out into the grounds. The snarling and howling had stopped. Professor Stratton must have shown up. The dementors would be coming soon.

“I… I think I need to run out to look again,” Harriet said. “We can’t see what’s going on from here. We’ll need to know so we’ll know when it’s time to fly up to Professor Flitwick’s office.”

Hermione gave her a suspicious look.

“I’m not going to interfere…”

“No…?”

“No!”

“Okay… but be careful! Professor Lupin’s still out there!”

Harriet nodded and snuck back out the front door. She couldn’t hear anything more, and she started to run towards the lake. As she neared, she heard the yelping, and felt the cold growing. The Dementors were closing in on Sirius. Now was her chance. She wasn’t going to interfere, but she still had to know. She had to find out who had conjured the patronus, and who the figures were on the other side of the lake.

Harriet ran to the place where the patronus seemed to have come from. She slowed and started sneaking. Sirius’ yelps had stopped. Harriet got to a little opening in the trees that gave her cover, yet she could still see both shores of the lake. The dementors were closing in on Harriet, Hermione, and Sirius now. She watched as the past-Harriet managed her feeble patronus, the dementor trying to wave it away.

Harriet glanced to the opposite shore, her heart thumping loudly in anticipation. And then, she saw them. A little group ran out to the edge of the lake. This time, Harriet recognized them at once. It wasn’t her parents and the Marauders; it was Kieran, Scott, Marcus, Dora, Ronnie, and a werewolf that could only be Jeremy.

Back on the opposite shore, the Dementor that had been about to kiss Harriet dropped her, and slowly the horrible crowd of floating, cloaked Dementors began to move towards her friends, closing on the next threat. Harriet looked around excitedly. Whoever had conjured the true patronus was going to be revealing themselves now.

But something was wrong. For some reason, the rescuer hadn’t arrived this time. She was about to watch her friends get kissed, unless someone did something.

And then, it hit Harriet like a train. Only one person could have conjured the patronus. The only person standing in the very spot the patronus had come from. Someone who’d already conjured a patronus powerful enough to chase off at least a hundred dementors.

Harriet drew her wand, stepped out from behind the trees, raised her arm towards the dementors, and shouted with all her might.

“ _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!”

Harriet’s wand bucked in her hand and a giant, silver-white blaze of light momentarily blinded her. She blinked a few times and watched as the massive, fleet-footed, silver-white animal raced towards the dementors. It lowered its head and tore into them, casting Dementors away as easily as if they were rag-dolls. It kicked and reared at them, dashing them aside effortlessly.

The dementors were retreating now. The silver-white animal turned and began to gallop back towards her. It was so bright in the dark night that Harriet still couldn’t make out what it was. It was silent as it approached, and Harriet squinted, trying to get a better look. There was something on its head, something like horns, or antlers; something like a massive stag. But no, it wasn’t horns. It was lighting up the branches over its head so they looked like antlers. Finally, Harriet’s eyes adjusted.

It wasn’t a stag. It was a horse. And not just any horse. It was a unicorn. The animal stepped up to her and lowered its head. Its long horn rested just over Harriet’s shoulder, putting Harriet in mind of the carving in the headboard of her bed back in McIntyre Manor of Robert the Bruce knighting Scott’s ancestor. Harriet raised a hand to stroke its nose but the moment her hand made contact, the unicorn vanished.

Harriet barely had time to process this when there was a sound behind her. She turned, expecting to see Hermione and Buckbeak, but instead she shrieked and fell backwards. She had been face to face with a large, blonde-furred dog. But it wasn’t a dog, it was a werewolf.

Harriet scrambled back up and pointed her wand at the werewolf, but it didn’t attack. Instead, it ducked behind a tree. Slowly, the werewolf’s shaggy head poked around the side of the tree and continued to look at her, studying her carefully. Harriet lowered her wand.

“Jeremy…?” she asked, breathlessly.

The werewolf didn’t respond right away. It cautiously moved back into the open and crouched on its haunches.

“You are Jeremy, aren’t you?” Harriet asked.

The werewolf lifted one of its paw-like hands and touched its throat. Harriet thought she understood.

“Y-you can’t speak?”

The werewolf shook its head. It grunted and sniffed the ground, turning in circles a few times, giving a soft, dog-like whine of impatience before pausing and finding a patch of dirt. It sat again, put one clawed finger to the dirt and wrote.

 

_Yes Im Jeremy_

 

Harriet nodded. “Professor Lupin told us about you, about what you are,” she said taking a step closer. “You came to try and rescue us?”

Jeremy wiped the dirt smooth with his paw and wrote again.

 

_Yes_

_Dora and Ronnie told us what happened_

_We came to help_

_Sorry I havent learned how to talk yet_

 

“It’s okay,” Harriet said.

 

Jeremy erased the words again.

 

_How are you here and there at once?_

 

Harriet flushed. “Um, long story. Speaking of which, I really have to go…” she paused and smiled at Jeremy. “But… thank you… for coming after us like that… you didn’t have to…”

 

_Worlds a better place with you in it_

_Youre too good and give people hope_

 

He considered the words a moment before he added:

 

_Even me_

 

Harriet flushed brighter. She didn’t know what made her do it. She stepped forward to Jeremy and hugged him tight around the neck. He didn’t respond, going very rigid instead. His wolfish eyes were very large when Harriet let go and took a step back.

Harriet smiled. “Do me a favour though? You didn’t see me here, okay? I’ll explain later, I promise.”

Jeremy pondered her a moment, but finally he nodded and without another dirt-scrawled word, he padded off back towards where the others had been. Harriet watched him go then heard feet behind her.

Hermione had finally caught up with Buckbeak. Harriet scuffed away the words Jeremy had written with her foot.

“What did you do!?” Hermione exclaimed. “You said you weren’t going to interfere!”

“You’re welcome,” Harriet said, shortly.

“What?”

“I just saved our lives. Quick, get down before Professor Snape shows up and sees us.”

They ducked down and Harriet explained everything that had happened.

“You conjured that patronus on your own?” Hermione asked, sounding very impressed. “Harriet, that’s very, _very_ advanced magic!”

“I knew I could do it, because I’d already done it, just like Professor Howe said.”

“Ah, yes, that does make sense—oh, there’s Professor Snape!”

Harriet looked and saw Professor Snape standing over the prostrate forms of Harriet, Hermione, and Sirius. He conjured stretchers and moved the three onto them and floated them off to the school.

Hermione checked her watch. “Okay, we have forty five minutes until we go back in time and have to be back in the classroom with Professor Howe and Dumbledore.”

“This is gonna be the trickiest part, isn’t it?” Harriet said.

“Probably…”

They waited and finally Hermione stood and pointed. “Look, there’s Macnair going to get the dementors!”

Harriet stood too and watched the man running across the grounds. “This is it,” she said.

They moved Buckbeak to a nearby stump and used it to climb onto his back. Harriet went first and Hermione climbed up behind her. Harriet took the rope and did her best to tie it into some makeshift reins on Buckbeak’s neck.

“Okay… how do we do this?” Hermione asked.

“I dunno, like this?” Harriet muttered and bumped Buckbeak’s sides with her heels.

Buckbeak flared his wings open and with one great flap launched himself airborne. Harriet was rocked backwards and forwards and Hermione wrapped her arms around Harriet’s waist tight, holding on.

“Oh, oh I don’t like this… I _really_ don’t like this!”

“Me neither,” Harriet said.

Flying Buckbeak was nothing like flying a broom. His wings rocked hard under them and it was hard to keep seated. But that didn’t matter now, all that mattered was getting to Sirius. Harriet counted the windows until finally spotting the one Professor Dumbledore told them. She steered Buckbeak towards it.

Buckbeak flew up next to the window and awkwardly tried to hover outside it. Harriet managed to tap on the window a couple times but it was difficult, as Buckbeak was rising up and down a few feet in the air with each flap.

Sirius’ face appeared in the window. He looked stunned and tried the window, but it was locked. Hermione drew her wand.

“ _Alohamora_!”

The window lock clicked and Sirius opened the window.

“How…what…?”

“Quick, just get on!” Harriet said. “The dementors are coming!”

Sirius grunted and began squeezing out of the window. It was lucky that he was still so thin. He timed his jump and managed to land on Buckbeak’s back right behind Hermione. Buckbeak grunted irritably and dropped a few feet before catching himself and swooping around, unable to hover anymore. Harriet pulled back on the reins and Buckbeak climbed once more, up to the top of the West Tower.

Buckbeak landed on top of the tower, his claws and hooves skittering on the stone floor. Harriet and Hermione slid off the moment he stopped and turned back to Sirius.

“Sirius, you have to go, we have to get back before they know we’ve gone! And they’ll find out you’ve gone too!”

“What happened to the boy, George?” Sirius asked, concerned.

“Madam Pomfrey said he’ll be okay. Quick, go!”

“How can I ever thank—”

“GO!” Harriet and Hermione both shouted.

Black pulled on the reins and Buckbeak turned to face the open sky.

“We’ll meet again, Harriet,” Black said. “You are truly your father’s daughter.”

Black nudged Buckbeak’s sides and the hippogriff lunged into the air once more. Harriet leaned against the battlements, watching Sirius and Buckbeak flying off, growing smaller and smaller. Finally, the clouds covered the moon once more and both Sirius and Buckbeak were gone.

“Harriet, come on, we gotta get back,” Hermione said, tugging Harriet’s sleeve. “We’ve only got ten minutes and we still have to keep from being seen!”

“Okay,” Harriet said. “Let’s go.”

They hurried off, moving down the spiral staircase. They reached the floor of the hospital wing and snuck out into the hallway.

“I see why Professor Dumbledore took us out of the room now and into that side room,” Hermione panted.

“Gave us a bit of a buffer didn’t it?”

They skidded to a halt. There was a tell-tale cackling behind them of Peeves the Poltergeist.

“Quick, in here!” Hermione said and they darted into a nearby deserted classroom.

They made it into the room just in time. Peeves zoomed past, clearly in good spirits as he knocked over some suits of armour, laughing at the top of his voice. Harriet blinked.

“What do you think… happy that Sirius is about to be kissed, or did he find out that Sirius is gone?” Harriet asked.

“Oh no!” Hermione shrieked. “We have to get going! If he’s about to tell people that Sirius has escaped!”

They ran for the door, throwing it open. They ran as fast as they could down the hall, following the sound of Peeves’ laughter. With relief, they got to the door and Harriet pounded on it. It flung open and she and Hermione fell inside. They looked up and saw Professor Dumbledore and Professor Howe smiling down at them.

“Welcome back,” Professor Dumbledore said, positively beaming.

“I take it by Peeves’ delight that we were successful?” Professor Howe asked.

“Yes,” Harriet said catching her breath. “We did it, Sirius flew off on Buckbeak.”

“Well done,” Professor Dumbledore said and they pulled the two girls to their feet. “Very well done indeed, I never doubted either of you for a second.”

Professor Howe grinned. “Well you did get some inside information on their progress, did you not, Albus?”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled warmly and the two men shook hands, clearly quite pleased with themselves. At that moment there was a roar of fury from the hospital wing. There was the sound of approaching feet and Professor Dumbledore opened the door and stuck his head out.

“Why Severus, whatever is the matter?”

“He’s gone!” Professor Snape cried, running past. “He can’t be gone!”

“Oh you know, Peeves, Professor Snape,” Fudge was saying, doing his best to keep up with the taller wizard. “He’s probably just winding us up!”

“Escape? How could he have escaped?” Hermione suddenly said. She grabbed Harriet’s arm and they stepped out into the hall after Professor Dumbledore.

“I, I don’t know, my dear,” Fudge said, mopping his brow. “But we have to check.”

He hurried off after Professor Snape. Daniel passed as well, giving Harriet and Hermione a very quizzical look.

After they passed, Professor Howe chuckled. “Good thinking, Miss Granger.”

“Th-thank you, Professor,” Hermione said, flushing furiously.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“We had to make sure he saw us in the room so we had our alibi still,” Hermione said.

“Quite right, Hermione,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Now, let us get you back into the hospital wing and hopefully un-ruffle most of Madam Pomfrey’s feathers.”

They walked back into the Hospital Wing and Dora, Ronnie, Kieran, Marcus and Scott all hurried over.

“Is it true?” Ronnie asked. “Did he get away?”

“It certainly does seem so,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Is… is it true,” Fred asked. “He’s innocent?” He gave Ronnie a glance. Clearly Ronnie had filled him in.

“Ah, well, that question will have to be answered another day, my dear boy,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Perhaps the high court will hear it out shortly.”

At that moment, another roar of rage could be heard upstairs.

“Oh dear,” Professor Howe said, his voice full of irony. “I guess Peeves was right after all?”

“Alas, it would certainly seem so,” Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily.

Madam Pomfrey came over now. “Professors, may I _please_ tend to these students properly now?”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey, I don’t think these students will need to be troubled any further tonight. Sherrod and I, I’m afraid, must go help conduct another search of the castle and grounds.”

“Such a crafty man, that Sirius Black,” Professor Howe said. “Hopefully we can catch him in time.”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled and the two men strode to the door. Harriet and Hermione let Madam Pomfrey hustle them to their beds. They changed into hospital gowns and accepted their portions of chocolate before Madam Pomfrey headed off to continue assisting Miss Momori with George.

Meanwhile, Dora and their friends sat around giving Harriet and Hermione very searching looks.

“What… did… you… two… _do_?” Dora asked.

“Oh… you know… a little of this and that,” Hermione said.

They could hear Professor Snape raging in the distance.

“You two were only gone for two minutes, how could you have rescued him in that amount of time?” Marcus asked, amazed.

“H-how do you know it was us?” Hermione asked, her face reddening. She had never been terribly good at lying.

“Hermione,” Scott said. “Seriously… you can tell them now.”

Hermione sighed. “Oh alright, I have a Time-Turner,” she said and pulled the magical object out to show them.

“Wow…” Ronnie said. “A Time-Turner, a _real_ Time-Turner!”

“Yes,” Hermione said, flushing even more.

“Wait, you knew she had it?” Dora asked.

Scott looked around at them all, flabbergasted. “How could I _not_ know? How did none of you figure that out?!”

There was the sound of voices approaching in the hallway.

“Uh, we should put that away, for now,” Scott said.

Hermione tucked the Time-Turner away just as the door opened and Professor Dumbledore, Howe, Snape, Flitwick, Daniel and Fudge returned. Fudge looked between stupefied and angry. Professor Flitwick appeared rather disgruntled while Professors Dumbledore and Howe were both looking on the scene with benign interest. Daniel was looking as though all his Christmases had come true at once.

Professor Snape however looked devastated, as though he had just spent considerable time in the presence of a dementor. “How… how…” he kept muttering as Professor Dumbledore and Howe guided him to a bed.

“There, there, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said, patting Professor Snape’s shoulder.

“He must have disapparated,” Fudge said, irritably, “that’s the only explanation.”

“HE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE!” Professor Snape bellowed. “YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE ANYWHERE IN THE HOGWARTS GROUNDS! SOMEONE HELPED HIM ESCAPE!”

“Calm down, man,” Fudge spat. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“I’m telling you, no one came to the door the whole time I was standing guard, and he couldn’t have climbed out that window without plummeting to his death!” Professor Flitwick squeaked.

“Oh don’t worry, Filius, no one is blaming you,” Professor Howe said. “Black is a cunning man. It probably would have been smarter to put someone in the room with him, but then he might have attacked and hurt whoever we left with him.”

“What on earth is going on now?!” Madam Pomfrey demanded.

“Ah, Poppy, would you please fetch some Pepper-Up Potion for Professor Snape? He’s suffering from a severe case of disappointment.”

“He’s not the only one,” Fudge growled. “Once the _Prophet_ finds out about this it’s going to have a field day! Oh Merlin! Skeeter is going to be beside herself! We can’t even execute a hippogriff, let alone a mass murderer!”

Madam Pomfrey returned with a mug of the steaming potion and handed it to Professor Snape. He took it with shaking hands and drank, steam whistling out of his ears, causing his greasy black hair to fly upwards. Harriet and her friends all choked back laughter at the sight.

“There now, Severus, don’t you feel better already?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

Professor Snape shot him a very dirty look indeed, though it looked like he was over the bulk of the shock. He got back to his feet and began walking off towards the door. He was moving with slow, deliberate steps, his head low and defeated. If he wasn’t so upset over the fact Sirius hadn’t just had his soul sucked out through his mouth, Harriet supposed she would have felt pity for him.

Just as he reached the door, it flung open and Macnair burst back in.

“They’re here, Minister!” he declared, his chest swollen with pride. “We can take Black down to perform the kiss now!”

“RAAHHHH!!!” Professor Snape let out a cry of despair, grabbing and pulling his hair.

Macnair gave him a dumbstruck look.

“I’m afraid that is no longer necessary, Macnair,” Fudge said irritably. “Black has escaped… again…”

“What?” Macnair asked, shocked. “How?!”

“Oh, I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” Fudge said. “Well, I’d better go and notify the Ministry.”

“Ah, Cornelius,” Professor Dumbledore said. “The Dementors? They will no longer be necessary, I trust?”

“Oh no, they’ll have to go. Straight-away. Never in my life dreamed they would attempt to perform the Kiss on an innocent girl. They’ll be packed off to Azkaban tonight. You know, maybe we should try dragons at the entrance…”

“I’m sure Hagrid would enjoy that,” Professor Dumbledore said, giving Harriet and her friends a little wink.

Professor Snape stormed past Macnair into the hallway. Fudge turned to Daniel.

“Well, I suppose we need something good to come out of this. Would you please come with me, Mr Dusk? We need to discuss what happened with the rescue of Miss Quoy and your Order of Merlin, I daresay.”

Daniel opened his mouth to reply but was cut off as Professor Snape gave another, even longer, wail of despair.


	29. Ill Omens

“I consider myself a man of peace. But I will always be prepared for war, because whatever ideals I hold, there are far too many people in the world who are not.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

It took a long time for everyone to fall asleep that night. Professors Dumbledore and Howe had managed to talk Madam Pomfrey and Miss Momori into letting the boys, Ronnie and Dora stay as well. The matron and healer finally relented when Professor Dumbledore pointed out that friends and laughter were even more effective at fighting off the effects of Dementors than chocolate, and one could never get full on them.

They had first gathered around George’s bed, waiting for him to wake up. Miss Momori explained that she expected George would be okay, but the curse’s effect would linger for a while. The curse had the potential to have been deadly, but apparently it had been cast silently by someone without enough skill.

This seemed to give Miss Momori some pause. Harriet and her friends all gave each other discreet looks as Miss Momori actually stood back and studied George intently, deep in thought. It was clear that Miss Momori was realizing that whoever had cursed George, it most likely wasn’t Sirius Black.

George finally awoke a little after one in the morning. He was greeted by a storm of hugs and kisses from a very relieved Erica.

“Blimey, if that’s what I get for waking up I need to get cursed more often,” George said. He gave a little laugh though he winced and held his ribs.

Miss Momori returned to give George a thorough check-up now he was awake and Madam Pomfrey ushered the rest of them off to their own beds to give George some space. Now that she was sure George was going to be okay, Erica seemed much more relaxed and regaled them all with the tales of her time with Sirius Black. As Erica told it, the experience seemed less a kidnapping and more a silly misunderstanding and a mini-holiday.

“Honestly, it was never that scary. Okay it kind of was at first, but once he finally explained what he was up to and who he was after, he was pretty cool. Basically I just hung out in the bedroom—well okay I was locked in but you know what I mean—while he was gone hunting for Pettigrew or sleeping at night. Other than that, he helped me study for my OWLs.”

“Except OWLs are over, aren’t they?” Ronnie asked.

“Somehow, I think “kidnapped by Sirius Black” will qualify with the OWL board as a valid excuse to sit them later,” Scott said, causing the group to break out laughing.

The conversation shifted to what the boys had done after leaving with Jeremy. This discussion was aided by Jeremy himself, who returned at around three in the morning. He had managed to turn himself back into a human after the moon had gone down.

According to the boys, after breaking off from the girls, they had helped Jeremy to Professor Stratton’s office to transform. There, Professor Stratton and Jeremy had explained about being true wolves, and their history. Much the same talk as Professor Lupin and Daniel had given the girls.

“So wait, you all knew he was a werewolf but you never told us?” Ronnie asked, clearly disgruntled.

“Well, yeah,” Marcus admitted though he looked quite sorry.

“Sorry,” Jeremy said. “It’s not their fault. I asked them not to… I… I wasn’t ready for everyone to know yet, and I was already pretty shocked to find out they’d all figured it out as it was.”

Just then, something occurred to Harriet. “Wait,” she said. “That’s why you lot were all hanging out so much last spring without us?”

“Aye,” Kieran said. He looked just as sheepish as Marcus did. “It wasn’t intentional really just sort of… happened…”

“Plus Bella worked it out way before any of you lot, so there’s that,” Jeremy chuckled. “She worked it out the end of last year.”

“She does care a lot about you,” Hermione said, smiling in a knowing way.

Jeremy gave a shy little smile and looked off into space. “Yeah, she does,” he said smiling wider.

For some reason Harriet felt a little pang in her stomach. It was similar to the pangs she would get over Erica and Hagrid’s friendship during her second year, but it was different. Was she jealous now of Isabella and Jeremy? Or jealous of Isabella over Jeremy? She didn’t know Jeremy terribly well but she would never forget the moment she had met him in werewolf form, and what he had written in the dirt. Maybe she was reading too much into it?

Harriet was distracted from her musings by the opening of the door to the hospital wing. This time, it was Hagrid. His face was very pale, and he had clearly sobered up from his celebratory drinking over Buckbeak’s escape.

“Yer alive!” Hagrid wailed.

Harriet was strongly reminded of Hagrid’s visit to her at the end of her first year after she’d stopped Voldemort and Quirrell from getting the Philosopher’s Stone. However, even if she was touched by Hagrid’s concern, she could have done without the rib-cracking hug that Hagrid gave both Harriet and Erica at the same time.

“Yeh all could’r bin killed and I was off drinkin’ an’ carryin’ on!” Hagrid continued, sobbing.

“Hagrid, calm down!” Harriet said, grunting under Hagrid’s crushing grip. “I was never in any danger, none of us were!”

“Yeah,” Erica said, sounding equally squished. “I’m fine, Sirius never hurt a hair on my head, not once. Never would have.”

“What?” Hagrid asked, stunned.

“Sirius Black’s innocent,” Dora said. “It wasn’t him.”

“Yeah, he really was upset that it was my parents who’d been killed the night you took me from my parents’ house,” Harriet said.

Hagrid looked staggered. “B-but all them people, li’l Peter Pettigrew—” Hagrid paused. “How did yeh know ‘bout Black turnin’ up at yer house?”

“It was Pettigrew who betrayed my parents,” Harriet said quickly, hoping this would distract Hagrid. “He was my parents’ secret-keeper. It was a bluff but it failed because they made the person who was the spy all along the secret-keeper. Pettigrew had pretty much everyone fooled from the start. Pettigrew didn’t track down Sirius, Sirius tracked Pettigrew down out of revenge.”

Hagrid finally let Harriet and Erica down, sinking into a chair which creaked under his weight.

“Also, Pettigrew was my rat…” Ronnie admitted, bitterly. “He was hiding out with us waiting for news of You-Know-Who coming back…”

“Yer rat?!” Hagrid stammered. He was clearly getting overwhelmed by this influx of information.

“Yeah,” Ronnie went on. “Sirius recognized him from the picture of my family in the _Daily Prophet_ last summer. Pettigrew was on my shoulder.”

Harriet noted that Ronnie was no longer referring to Pettigrew as Scabbers anymore.

“I can’ believe it, I just can’ believe it,” Hagrid muttered, shaking his head.

“It’s true, Hagrid,” Erica said patting his arm. “I promise.”

“I can vouch too,” George said from his bed. “We were bringing him back to the school to turn him over to the ministry when Lupin transformed. Bastard tried to kill me and damn near succeeded before he scampered.”

Fred went noticeably paler at this statement. Hagrid meanwhile was dabbing his forehead with one of his massive handkerchiefs.

“Besides, the biggest threat we faced out there was the dementors,” Harriet said. “And Fudge has taken them away now. So they won’t have to remind you of Azkaban anymore,” Harriet said smiling warmly up at Hagrid. “And I won’t have to worry about falling off my broom anymore.”

Hagrid beamed. There was a high-pitched growl and Hagrid jumped.

“Oh, blimey, I fergot,” he said and reached into one of his massive coat’s pockets. From it, he drew a very disgruntled looking Crookshanks. He looked rather silly as his mid-section was wrapped tightly in a woven band that seemed to glow, and made the rest of his hair look even fluffier than usual. Harriet recognized the band at once as unicorn tail hair.

“Crookshanks!” Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her bed and running over to take her cat from Hagrid’s hand. “You’re alive! You’re alive!”

Crookshanks gave a little yowl and Hermione loosened her grip. “Oh I’m sorry, you’re probably sore like George is.”

“Great, I’m brothers in arms with a cat now,” George muttered.

Fred finally laughed. He was suddenly looking happier than Harriet had seen him in quite some time.

“Yeah, heard him yowlin’ in the grounds on my way back ter my hut aft’ I got some good tea from the kitchens ter’ help sober me back up. Looked like he was put through the ringer, so took him in ter my hut and treated him up a bit. I should probably keep an eye on ‘im fer a little bit though ter get him back ter health.”

“Of course, Hagrid, thank you so much,” Hermione said, though she kept holding Crookshanks close. Crookshanks in the meantime seemed to have resigned himself to being cuddled by Hermione.

“So, what were you celebrating, Hagrid?” Scott asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh yeah!” Hagrid exclaimed. “Haven’t told yeh, have I? Beaky! He escaped!”

“That’s wonderful, Hagrid!” Hermione said.

“Yeah, mustn’t ‘ave tied ‘im up properly. Slipped away just b’fore the executioner went out ter, y’know.”

“Well, that was a lucky break then,” Harriet said, her lips twitching.

They chatted with Hagrid a while more until Madam Pomfrey came and told Hagrid off for keeping them all awake and shooed him out. Hermione had to run him down to give him back Crookshanks for treatment. With everyone finally feeling alright with the world, they didn’t bother fighting Madam Pomfrey as she sent them all back to their beds and told them to get some sleep.

Harriet felt as though the smile was etched on her face as she slid underneath the covers. She set her glasses on the bedside table, rolled on her side, and drifted off into a restful sleep full of happy thoughts of flying hippogriffs.

## * * * *

It was noon by the time Harriet awoke. By the looks of it, Jeremy had already left, but the rest of Harriet’s friends had stayed. Miss Momori gave everyone a clean bill of health, including George who had recovered dramatically after a full night’s sleep. This made Erica very happy and the two quickly headed off to “make up for lost time” as they put it.

To Harriet’s surprise, Fred was actually smiling as he watched the pair walking away. Harriet waved her friends on and hung back to talk to him.

“You’re taking this well,” Harriet said.

Ever since she had known the twins they had done everything together. Yet since George had seen Erica at the start of her second year, he had become more withdrawn. Harriet had even felt a bit of resentment the previous year, like Erica was breaking up their friendship, whether Erica had realized it or not. Fred however simply shrugged.

“You know, a year ago, I probably wouldn’t have been. It was weird seeing him being so quiet all the time, especially when she was around, but now… it’s like he’s his old self again. And if she makes him that happy, who am I to take that away from him? I guess that’s what I realized last night when I heard him laughing and joking again the way he used to. Guess I realized it wasn’t that she was changing him, it was not being with her that was burying him. Does that make sense?”

Harriet thought, chewing her lip. “Yeah, I guess I can see that,” she said and smiled up at him. “You know, you can actually be a pretty nice guy when you want to be.”

“Shhh,” Fred hissed, looking around furtively. “Not so loud!”

Harriet laughed. It was nice to see this more thoughtful side of Fred. As much as she appreciated the laughs he brought, she also liked the more serious, personal side that peeked out every now and then. Fred looked around a bit more seriously now and seeing they really were alone, he looked back down at her and smiled back.

“So hey, Harriet, you know I was kind of wondering…”

“Yes?” Harriet asked.

“Well, there is a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow, for the end of the year you know, and well I was wondering if you’d like—”

“HARRIET!”

Harriet and Fred spun around to see Ronnie skidding around a corner. She actually grabbed hold of a hanging tapestry to stop herself, her face stricken.

“Harriet! It’s Lupin! He’s leaving!” Ronnie managed to gasp.

“What?!” Harriet exclaimed. “Why?!”

“Snape!” Ronnie said as the rest of the group came around the corner too.

“He told all the Slytherins this morning,” Dora added. Her eyes were burning with rage. “And they told the rest of the school.”

Harriet’s chest clenched. She didn’t need to ask what Professor Snape had told the Slytherins. There was only one secret that Professor Lupin had that could cause him to leave. The injustice of it burned inside her, brighter than Dora’s eyes.

“Is he still here?” Harriet asked.

“I think so,” Hermione said. Unlike Dora, Hermione looked on the verge of tears.

“I have to see him,” Harriet said.

She started running in the direction of Professor Lupin’s office. She heard Ronnie say something as she passed but she wasn’t paying enough attention to hear what she said. She didn’t stop until she reached Professor Lupin’s open office door.

The office was already mostly cleaned out. The Grindylow tank was empty on his desk, and his tattered briefcase was nearly full. Next to it was an old and familiar piece of parchment which Professor Lupin was leaning over.

“I saw you coming,” Professor Lupin said, smiling at Harriet in a very stiff, forced way.

“Hey, Harriet,” said a girl’s voice from the floor.

Harriet looked and blinked to see Isabella and Jeremy sitting on the floor. Well, Isabella was sitting. Jeremy was curled up awkwardly in a doglike fashion and Isabella was idly brushing back some of his hair. Harriet looked at Jeremy, who sighed and sat up normally.

“Some of the effects linger a bit after…” he said.

Harriet however turned back to Professor Lupin. “Ronnie just told me,” Harriet said. “It’s not true is it? You _can’t_ go!”

Professor Lupin sighed and opened one of his drawers, moving its contents to the briefcase. “I’m afraid it is…”

Jeremy grunted as Isabella helped him to his feet. He gave her an appreciative smile and the two moved towards the door. Isabella gave Harriet an understanding grimace which left Harriet feeling a little overwhelmed. In spite of her upset feelings over Professor Lupin’s outing and leaving, several twinges hit Harriet as the two passed her.

The jealousy was obvious, and she grudgingly expected it. Though just what the exact cause of it was, Harriet still wasn’t sure. She was left in even less certainty because in spite of what had happened by the lake with Jeremy, as she looked back into Isabella’s almond-shaped, hazel eyes, Harriet was struck once again by just how pretty she really was.

But there was something more than that which seemed to be eating at Harriet. It had to do with what Jeremy had told them last night, about how Isabella had worked out Jeremy’s secret. Yet she had not abandoned him as a friend. She’d kept his secret, and she was still sticking by his side. Remembering the events of last summer with Aunt Marge, Harriet was struck by just how much she would like someone she could totally trust with that information as well. And in spite of that, the realization Jeremy also kept such a secret he was afraid of people knowing made her feel closer to him as well.

The two students left and Harriet was now alone with Professor Lupin. Harriet looked back at him, trying to push the awkward thoughts of Jeremy and Isabella from her head. The whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that had just surged through her left her feeling a little disorientated.

“Why…?” she asked, unable to keep the tone of betrayal from her voice. “It’s not because of what Professor Snape said, is it? You can’t leave just because of that.”

Professor Lupin gave a bitter smile. “By this time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving, Harriet. Parents are not going to want their children being taught by a werewolf.”

“But, Professor Stratton—”

“As far as the general Wizarding public knows, Desmond’s kind of werewolf does not exist, Harriet. And it is far more important he remains at this school to continue to watch over and guide Jeremy than I. But for what it’s worth, after last night, I have to say I agree. I could have bitten any of you last night, I very nearly did bite George or kill him. I could have killed Sirius, too. Or you. And I would have done had Professor Stratton not been here at the school. I cannot risk that happening again.”

“But you’re the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” Harriet said. “Please don’t go!”

Harriet felt her emotions rising. It was much more than Professor Lupin’s talents as a teacher that was speaking through Harriet now. She was all too aware that last night she got back three of the closest people to true family she had in the entire world. She didn’t want to give them all up so soon.

Professor Lupin’s lips tightened and he did not speak. Instead he carried on emptying his drawers into his briefcase. Harriet was about to say something more when Professor Lupin finally spoke.

“So, from what Professor Dumbledore told me this morning, you saved quite a few lives last night. Nothing makes me prouder than knowing just how much you learned. Tell me about your patronus!”

Harriet blinked. “How did you know about my patronus?”

Professor Lupin chuckled. “What else could it have been?”

Harriet explained. She ended up telling him everything, about running off to save Sirius, the dementors, being saved by the Patronus, about going back in time, saving Buckbeak, realizing she had cast the patronus, what the patronus had been, and how they had flown Buckbeak to Professor Flitwick’s office and freed Sirius. Professor Lupin was beaming by the time Harriet finished.

“Amazing, Harriet, simply amazing. You know, it’s funny that you thought your patronus was a stag for a moment.”

“Why’s that?” Harriet asked.

Professor Lupin chuckled. “Why, because your father was a stag when he transformed.”

“Really?” Harriet asked.

“Yes. That’s why we called him Prongs.”

Professor Lupin put his last few books into his case and pulled out a bundle of shimmering cloth from the final drawer. It was Harriet’s invisibility cloak.

“Here,” he said handing over the cloak. “I collected this from the Shack this morning. Good as new. And…” he hesitated, glancing at the desk. He took a breath and smiled as he handed over the Marauder’s Map too. “As I’m no longer your teacher, I see no problem with giving you this back as well. I suppose it is yours by right, anyway, and I’m sure you and your friends will find uses for it.”

Harriet took back the map. She smiled but it was very strained and she felt her lower lip give a little wobble.

There was a knock at the door. Harriet turned to see both Professor Dumbledore and Daniel standing there. Neither looked surprised to see Harriet. Professor Dumbledore did not look particularly sad, but Harriet felt a great heaviness emanating from him. Daniel looked exhausted. Harriet was sure he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.

“Your carriage is here, Remus,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Professor Lupin picked up his briefcase and Daniel stepped forward, lifting the Grindylow tank.

“Well, goodbye, Harriet,” Professor Lupin said, shaking Harriet’s hand. “You’ve been a wonderful student, and I’m sure we’ll see each other again before too long. There’s no need to see me to the gates, Albus. Daniel and I will manage.”

“Goodbye for now, then, Remus,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Harriet got the impression that Professor Lupin wanted to leave as soon as possible. Daniel followed but inexplicably he paused in the doorway, gave Harriet a little smile and a wink, and left after Professor Lupin.

Harriet sank into a chair, looking at the cloak and map in her hands. Now that he was really gone, the fact of Professor Lupin leaving had really struck Harriet. She felt as if a massive weight was around her shoulders. The door closed and Harriet looked up, seeing Professor Dumbledore was still there.

“Now, why so miserable, Harriet? You should be very proud of yourself after last night.”

“It didn’t make any difference…” Harriet muttered. “In fact, I made it worse! Pettigrew got away, Sirius is still on the run, and now Professor Lupin had to leave because of me.”

“ _You_ _did not_.”

Harriet jumped. Professor Dumbledore’s statement had been so stern it caught her totally off guard. His face was set but suddenly softened and he walked over and sank into the chair next to Harriet. Somehow, close up like this, Harriet was struck by just how old Professor Dumbledore looked.

Professor Dumbledore sighed. “There was never much hope in Professor Lupin lasting as a professor longer than a year, Harriet. The discrimination and hatred for their kind in the magical world is so ingrained that the information was more than likely to get out anyway.”

“But you still hired him.”

“Yes. I still hired him. He’s a good and kind person; knowledgeable, and a good teacher. And the money he earned should help him last a little while until he gets properly on his feet working with Daniel in the town instead.”

“What?” Harriet gasped.

Professor Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Oh yes, Harriet. So there we see how you certainly did _not_ make things worse. Instead, during the course of this year, you did your part to help reunite two old friends, helped them recognize the innocence of a third, and learn the true nature of the fourth who committed the true betrayal. So you did make a difference, and it certainly was not for the worse. Best of all, you saved a poor creature from a very unjust punishment and an innocent man from a terrible fate.”

At the word _terrible_ , something clicked in Harriet’s mind. Something she had forgotten all about with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

“Professor Dumbledore? Yesterday, during my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went really… well… funny?”

“I see,” Professor Dumbledore said. Somehow, he did not seem surprised, but was listening intently. “Funny how, might I ask?”

Somehow, Harriet felt sure that Professor Dumbledore knew, or at least suspected, what Harriet was about to say.

“Well, her voice went really funny, and she tensed up and her eyes rolled. I thought she was going to have a seizure or something but then she spoke, and she said that Voldemort’s servant was going to return to him before midnight, and that the servant would help bring him back to power.”

Harriet trailed off, before slowly looking back up at Professor Dumbledore. “And then, she became normal again, and she couldn’t remember having said any of it. And then last night, Pettigrew escaped… do you think she made a real prediction that time?”

Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. He seemed mildly impressed, but not entirely surprised. “You know, Harriet, I do believe she did. That would bring her count of confirmed real predictions up to two. I shall have to give her a pay rise for this.”

Harriet stared. How could Professor Dumbledore be taking this so lightly?

“But, I’m the one who stopped Daniel, Remus and Sirius from killing Pettigrew! That makes it my fault—”

“It does _not_ ,” Professor Dumbledore said, cutting Harriet off. He did not look or sound stern, as he had at first, but there was an edge to his voice all the same. “First and foremost, Harriet, do you really think you could have lived with yourself had you allowed them to do so?”

Harriet flushed. She felt just like she did her first year in the room with the _Mirror of Erised_ all over again. She had not gotten that close to Professor Dumbledore over the last three years, but she couldn’t help but feel open around him.

“No,” Harriet admitted.

“Precisely,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Secondly, while I am sure you will not be pleased to hear it, unless I am much mistaken on the deepest matters of magic, _if_ Pettigrew does indeed return to Lord Voldemort, you will have sent him a servant who is in your debt.”

“Sir?” Harriet asked.

“Yes, in saving Pettigrew, you established a bond between you—”

“But I don’t want a bond with him!” Harriet exclaimed. In her outrage she actually got to her feet. “He killed thirteen people just to save his own neck! And my parents! He betrayed them to Voldemort just to save his own neck too!”

“This is magic at its deepest and most impenetrable, Harriet. Please, hear me out.”

Harriet sat again and Professor Dumbledore continued.

“While I assure you, no one would truly want a bond with someone of Pettigrew’s ilk; often times the things that seem the darkest, the worst events in our lives, in the end are not truly so. Often through the lens of time even the blackest events, if we survive them, can actually be quite positive and teach us invaluable lessons.”

Professor Dumbledore paused. He looked off towards the door, though not as though he really saw it. Harriet waited and finally Professor Dumbledore gave a little sigh and returned his attention to her.

“Such, I think, is the case with you and Pettigrew. Whatever he is, Pettigrew will not forget that you saved his life. And Lord Voldemort will not, either.”

Harriet gave her head a little shake and looked down at the map and cloak in her lap. She didn’t have anything to say to that. They sat for a moment in a silence that was making Harriet feel increasingly awkward. She fished around for something to talk about and her mind landed on the subject of not being able to allow Daniel, Remus, and Sirius to kill Pettigrew.

“I… can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore smiled.

“Well, in the Shrieking Shack, before Professor Lupin and Daniel turned up… I had a shot at Sirius with my wand. When I still thought he was bad I mean. I wanted to do something terrible… I wanted to hurt him. But I couldn’t. When I got my chance… I just disarmed him.”

Professor Dumbledore did not respond at first. Instead he simply smiled wider.

“I see, well, that says a great deal about you, Harriet. A great deal of good. Though that is hardly surprising to anyone who has ever met you. So, it seems that you learned quite a bit about yourself last night, didn’t you? That unicorn patronus of yours for instance.”

Harriet blinked. “How did you know about that?”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. “From Master Owens when he returned to the school last night. He seemed deeply impressed, if I do say so myself.”

Harriet felt her cheeks get hotter.

“As well he should have been. Our patronuses say a great deal about us Harriet; what makes us happy, what drives us, and our deepest, innermost thoughts. For most people it’s an expression of love. Your parents, for instance, had complimentary patroni. Your father’s was a stag, as was his animagus form, according to Sirius when I interrogated him last night. Your mother’s, on the other hand, was a doe.”

Harriet gave a little laugh. “For a moment I thought mine was a stag when it was coming back to me after I cast it.”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled too. “Well, it would hardly have been surprising if that was the case. But yours I think says something even deeper about you. Your greatest quality, Harriet, is love. And you have had some very emotional experiences with unicorns in your life. From the poor creature you found dead in the forest your first year, to the experience you had with the McIntyre herd this summer.”

“You knew about the visit to the unicorns?” Harriet asked.

“Oh alas, Harriet, you’ll find there’s very little I do not know, which incidentally is what makes your father and his friends’ accomplishment in becoming animagi right under my nose all the more extraordinary. But going back to the more important issue of your patronus, and what it says about you. Unicorns are creatures of peace and love, as I’m sure you know, and they contribute greatly to magical arts such as healing.”

“Yeah, Scott’s cousin, Jess, explained a lot of that to me last summer,” Harriet replied.

“Yes. And so can you see what your patronus, being a unicorn, says about you?”

Harriet slowly shook her head. She wasn’t being entirely truthful. She thought she knew what Professor Dumbledore was getting at, but she was having a hard time accepting it.

“It says just how much love you have inside you, Harriet. It says just what an extraordinary person you are. And that is something to be embraced, for so few people have it on the same scale as you. You are kind, modest, and care deeply about not just your friends, but everyone. And that is a quality that inspires great loyalty and friendship. It was that which brought your friends to your aid to fend off a troll. It was that which inspired your friends to follow you through the trap-door to keep Lord Voldemort from reaching the Philosopher’s Stone. It was that which caused three of your friends to allow themselves to be pummelled rather severely by the Whomping Willow last night in an attempt to save you. And it was that which caused all of them to run off after you, knowing that an entire horde of Dementors was closing in on you. So now not only have you learned a great deal about yourself, but you have also learned a great deal about your friends, and the type of people those of your character attract.”

Harriet stared at her knees, trying to digest what Professor Dumbledore was telling her. Another thought she had from the previous night came back to her.

“Professor Dumbledore? Last night, just before I passed out from the Dementors, I saw my friends across the lake; Kieran, Scott, Marcus, Dora, Ronnie, and Jeremy… I…” she flushed. “I thought they were my parents and their friends for a moment…”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. “An easy mistake to make.”

“But, who would Dora have been… I mean Marcus and Ronnie looked like my mum and dad… Kieran kinda looked like Daniel, Scott looked like Sirius and Jeremy like Remus… but…”

“Ah, yes,” Professor Dumbledore said and his eyes twinkled brighter. “Sirius would be most interested in that, I’m sure.”

“Sir?”

“Well, a common trait amongst young men, as I’m sure you’ve encountered, is a longing for the one thing in life they cannot get. Such was the tale in those days of Sirius Black. Sirius was, I dare say, a bit of a rebel, which made him very popular amongst the ladies of the school in those days. He may have dabbled in youthful promiscuity, yet he had eyes for only one.”

Harriet gave a snort and laugh in one. “Sirius fancied Dora’s mum?” she trailed off. “Well okay I guess I can’t blame him…”

Professor Dumbledore chortled. “Dora’s mother and Sirius had quite a bit in common. Both came from families with rather—well—dark histories. However, both chose to break away from their families to follow their own paths. Unfortunately, unlike your father, Sirius was never quite able to throw off his ego enough to appeal to an upstanding young woman who took her status as a Gryffindor much more seriously than most.”

“Okay… so now I know why Dora said she asked to be in Slytherin house to make her parents mad.”

Professor Dumbledore simply chuckled, but did not speak further on the subject.

“Well, Harriet, I suggest you take a little time to dwell on what we discussed,” Professor Dumbledore said, “but focus on the positive messages. Your actions saved Sirius’ life, you saved Buckbeak’s life, you helped lay the groundwork to prove Sirius’ innocence, you brought some old friends back together, you learned a great deal about yourself in the process, and you ensured that should Lord Voldemort return, it will be with an air of suspicion of those who serve him. I would call that coming out ahead, don’t you think?”

Harriet could only nod, but Professor Dumbledore did not seem to require a response. Instead he rose and made his way to the door. He paused just outside of it, said something too quietly for Harriet to hear, and left. There was a soft, wooden click and Kieran peered around the doorway, leaning on his stick.

“You okay?” he asked, slowly moving into the room.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harriet said.

Kieran moved over and sat in the seat Professor Dumbledore had just vacated. “Wanna talk about it?”

Harriet shook her head.

“Wanna just sit and think about it?”

Harriet nodded.

“Want me to go?”

“No,” Harriet said quickly. “Just a lot to think about.”

“I bet…” Kieran said.

“Yeah...” Harriet muttered. Despite Professor Dumbledore’s kind words, she didn’t feel entirely reassured.

The two sat in silence until Ronnie turned up ten minutes later to inform them they would miss lunch.

## * * * *

Despite her sadness at Professor Lupin’s resignation, several things did happen which increased Harriet’s morale considerably. The first was Aurochius finding her the evening after Sirius’ escape. He wasted little time informing her that in the wake of the aurors’ failure to prevent the events of that night, Aurochius and his crew were to be staying as a continued security presence at the school. He said that Mr Flamel was paying them personally to stay indefinitely, or until the Black and Kinney threat were neutralized.

Harriet and her friends wasted little time in filling Aurochius in on what actually happened, and Sirius’ innocence. Aurochius reacted much as Hagrid had, with disbelief at first but by the end of the conversation even he was convinced that Sirius was innocent.

Next was Professor McGonagall finding her that Saturday morning to inform Harriet that in light of Sirius’ fleeing and having been spotted many miles away from the school, Harriet was allowed to go into Hogsmeade once more, though Aurochius would still be required to be her guard, just in case. Harriet was most excited to see Daniel and Remus again, but was disappointed to discover that neither were there. Hyland explained that both had been called to the ministry again for further debriefings on what had happened the night Sirius escaped.

The third was George receiving a Medal for Magical Merit for his bravery during the night of Sirius’ escape. Another was the headlines in the _Daily_ _Prophet_ for the next few days as well. Fudge had been partly right in his predictions. While none of them were giving the Ministry any praise (quite the opposite, in fact), there was indeed a couple articles on Daniel’s bravery of the night:

 

_Ex-Auror Redeems Self by Rescuing Kidnapped Student from Sirius Black._

_Hero Ex-Auror Declines Award for Heroism_

The last one in particular caught Harriet’s attention. The fact that Daniel had declined the Order of Merlin touched Harriet deeply. However, it had the opposite effect on Professor Snape. The morning that edition of the _Prophet_ came out, there was a loud ripping noise from the staff table. Professor Snape had torn his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in half, his eyes burning, staring at the space in front of his face where the article had been.

“Ah, hubris,” Dora said, smugly before resuming eating.

The post-‘Night of Sirius Black’ development that puzzled Harriet the most was Draco Malfoy’s response. She wasn’t sure how she expected him to react to the news of Buckbeak’s escape in particular, but it certainly wasn’t how he actually seemed to take the news. Indeed, he seemed downright buoyant. Harriet attempted to corner Kenley to ask her about it but Kenley simply smiled enigmatically and suggested that Harriet ask Draco himself about it.

As Harriet had hardly engaged in anything but bitter, sniping insults with Draco of the past few years, she wasn’t exactly sure how to go about this. Particularly since Dora was still a well-known “spy” of Harriet’s in Slytherin house, so she was little help. Meanwhile Kenley’s little sister, Katy, who was quickly growing as the gossip queen at Hogwarts, flat-out refused to spill any secret that involved her sister in any way.

The following Monday, Hermione surprised everyone by informing them all that she had both handed in the time-turner, and dropped Arithmancy.

“But wasn’t that your favourite topic?” Harriet asked, raising her eyebrows in confusion.

“Well, yes, and no…” Hermione said. “It was either that or Muggle Studies. Dropping either would give me a normal time-table. That time-turner was driving me mad!”

“But you were raised a Muggle, what did you need to keep Muggle Studies for?” Dora asked.

“Well… it—it has less to do with the subject matter and more to do with the professor,” Hermione admitted. “The amount of fun I had in her class was about the only thing that got me through, what with everything else that was going on.”

“You, having fun?” Ronnie teased.

“Oh shut up,” Hermione snapped. “Just because I know how to work doesn’t mean I don’t also know how to have fun!”

“You know, we did talk about changing from Divination to Muggle Studies next year, didn’t we?” Harriet asked Ronnie, hoping to change the subject.

“Yeah, that’s true…”

“Oh do, please!” Hermione said. “Professor Spring is so much fun, and she actually manages to explain a lot of things that even I didn’t know.”

“Well, then again, getting good grades by just making things up is pretty hard to pass up…” Ronnie said, her lips curling teasing before laughing and ducking a pillow Hermione threw at her.

Regardless, Harriet and Ronnie both made their way to Professor McGonagall’s office the next day to discuss their class lists with her. To her surprise, they met Kieran, Scott and Marcus leaving Professor McGonagall’s office, all beaming though suddenly looking awkward at the sight of the girls.

“Oh, hey you two,” Marcus said trying to look nonchalant.

“What are you three up to?” Harriet asked.

“Oh just talking to Professor McGonagall about our timetables,” Scott said quickly.

“Oh, same as us,” Ronnie said, cheerfully.

“Oh good,” Scott said.

The boys hustled off and Harriet watched after them.

“You think there’s something they’re not telling us again?” Harriet asked.

Ronnie shrugged. “At this point, I’ve given up on figuring out who has secrets and who doesn’t.”

Professor McGonagall was very understanding, though to Harriet’s disappointment she did not allow them to replace Divination with Muggle Studies. However, they were still allowed to add Muggle Studies, which was still a victory in Harriet’s book, though Ronnie still grumbled over an increased class-load.

For the next week, it seemed only three topics were on anyone’s mind. First, and most predictable, was Sirius Black’s escape. Speculation was wild, but no theory came anywhere close to the truth. On the one hand, Harriet felt a compulsion to try and correct everyone, tell them all what really happened. On the other, the swirling theories and gossip were so amusing that Harriet was quite content to let everyone get on with it.

The second topic was also typical Hogwarts; the fact that George and Erica were now dating. Harriet found it amusing that so many people were so wrapped up in an issue that, while she liked it, she thought would seem so trivial in light of the escape of a man the entire school still considered a mass murderer. And yet, the fact that the school was able to find something like two popular students hooking up equal in gossip value to Sirius Black somehow made things seem right in the world to Harriet’s mind.

Rachel in particular was beside herself. Having her "big sister" back safe and sound, coupled with Erica and George finally getting together, made her the happiest Harriet had ever seen her. She could hardly go anywhere without a skip in her step, and kept making high-pitched noises of happiness every time she saw George and Erica do something "cute" together.

The third topic was Professor Lupin’s leaving. Harriet was pleased, in a bitter-sweet way, to see that while many students did express outrage over Professor Lupin being a werewolf, it seemed an equal number of students were expressing dismay at his resignation.

The opinion that Professor Lupin was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for some time was not isolated to Gryffindor house alone. Harriet overheard many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in particular bemoaning his resignation. Harriet noted that the bulk of those who were complaining were older students, who had gone much longer without a ‘proper Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher’ than Harriet and her friends had.

At last, the final night of school arrived. As with the previous two years, the end of year feast was held underneath the bright red of Gryffindor House banners. Thanks largely to the Quidditch team’s performance in the inter-house Quidditch match, Gryffindor had won the house cup as well for the third year in a row. The general good cheer helped Harriet forget that the following day she would be returning to the Dursleys once more, having so nearly escaped them to live with Sirius instead.

However, this sense of cheer faded rapidly the next morning as the realization set in. She had come so close to escaping once and for all, but now she was yet again packing her trunk for a return to the torment of Number Four, Privet Drive. At breakfast that morning, Harriet got a pleasant surprise from Ronnie as their aged family owl, Errol, landed in the porridge. Ronnie’s face burst into a wide grin as she read the note.

“Hey! I almost forgot! It’s the Quidditch World Cup this summer, everyone! Mum and Dad have been talking with all your parents and they’ve arranged for you all to come visit so we can all go!”

“Brilliant!” Harriet said, excitedly.

“Oh that will be wonderful,” Hermione said.

“Wicked,” Marcus agreed.

And so with happy thoughts of the Quidditch World Cup and a summer spent at the Weasleys’ to sustain her, Harriet felt much more cheerful. However, there was one last thing that Harriet felt she needed to take care of before they went down to board the train.

She and Dora headed to the Gryffindor first-year girls’ dormitory. There they found Emma in the middle of packing. Or at least she was supposed to be in the middle of packing. Instead she was sitting on her bed, surrounded by her belongings and more of her drawings. All of them were of her and Snuffles.

“Emma, sweetie?” Dora said sitting on the bed next to her sister. “We need to talk.”

“What about?” Emma sniffed. She’d clearly been crying.

“Well… it’s about… Snuffles…” Harriet said awkwardly.

Emma looked up at Harriet, her blue, bloodshot eyes wide.

“Did someone find him?!” she asked, hope written across her face.

“Well, yes, and no…” Dora said, putting an arm around Emma’s shoulder. “He’s okay… but… well… honey… prepare yourself for a bit of a shock…”

An hour later, Harriet and her friends had boarded the Hogwarts Express and the train pulled away from the station. It had been hard telling Emma the truth about Snuffles’ identity, but she seemed to take it well. She didn’t seem to like being deceived, but once they explained why Sirius had done what he’d done, she seemed to lighten up. She had joined them in their compartment and was now playing a game of Exploding Snap with Marcus when the thing that truly cheered Harriet up the most arrived.

It was Hermione who spotted it. Outside their window, being buffeted this way and that by the trains’ slipstream was a tiny brown Scops owl, carrying a letter that was far too big for it. Harriet opened the window and finally managed to catch the little owl in one hand, which felt like a fluffy Snitch. Harriet pulled the little owl inside and took its letter.

“O-mi-gosh-it’s-the-cutest-thing-ever!” Ronnie cooed quickly relieving Harriet of the owl.

“O-merlin-it-so-is!” Dora agreed.

The owl twittered happily in Ronnie’s hands as the two fawned over it. Hedwig, as well as Scott, Marcus, and Dora’s owls on the other hand were all clicking their beaks and looking at the owl with narrowed eyes. Clearly they did not approve of the little owl’s exuberance.

“It’s from Sirius!” Harriet said, reading the letter which was addressed to her.

“What?!” Dora exclaimed.

“Read it aloud!” Marcus said.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don’t know if they’re used to owl post._

_At the moment, Buckbeak and I are in hiding. But we won’t be for long. Daniel, Sherrod and Albus have been negotiating with the Ministry, and I am going to turn myself over to the Ministry to stand trial while Buckbeak will go to Rathlin._

“What?!” Ronnie gasped.

“Shh!” Hermione hissed.

Harriet read on.

 

_I will be placed under house arrest, which will be in the Shrieking Shack. So I’ll have a lot of cleaning work to do over the summer._

_There’s something else I never got around to telling you when we first met. I was the one who sent you the_ Firebolt.

 

“Ha!” Dora said. “See! I told you it was from him!”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t jinxed, was it?” Ronnie retorted. “Ow!” She yelped as the tiny owl nipped her finger a bit too hard.

 

_Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name, but used my Gringotts vault number. Please consider it thirteen birthdays’ and Christmases worth of presents from your Godfather._

_If you ever need me, send word to me or Daniel or Remus. Being under house arrest I won’t be able to come myself, but both of them will._

_I’ll write again, soon._

_P.S. I thought your friend Ronnie might like to keep this owl, as it’s my fault she no longer has a rat._

 

Ronnie gasped and looked down at the fluffy owl in her hands.

“Keep him…?” Ronnie asked. She sounded uncertain.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, she held the little owl out to Crookshanks.

“What do you reckon? Definitely an owl?”

Crookshanks responded by purring and rubbing each cheek on the little owls head.

“Good enough for me,” Ronnie said, grinning. “He’s mine!”

Harriet kept reading Sirius’ letter all the way to King’s Cross. She was still holding it when they exited the barrier of Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Uncle Vernon was there, standing a ways away and eyeing the group of Ronnie, Kieran, Scott, Hermione, and Dora’s parents along with Marcus’ father suspiciously. His worst fears seemed realized as Harriet ran up to give them all hugs.

“I’ll keep in touch with you all about the Cup this summer!” Ronnie called after everyone as they went their separate ways with their families.

Harriet waved back as she made her way to Uncle Vernon.

“What’s that?” he snapped, pointing at the letter in Harriet’s hand. “If it’s another ruddy form—”

“Oh no, it’s not,” Harriet said smiling. “It’s a letter from my godfather.”

“Godfather? You haven’t got a godfather!” Uncle Vernon spluttered.

“Yes, I have,” Harriet said smiling pleasantly. “He was my mum and dad’s best friend. He’s been in prison my whole life, but he broke out last summer, and he’s on the run. But now we’re back in touch, he’d like to keep up with me, check up on how I’m doing and make sure I’m happy and all that. Oh, and I got back in touch with another one of my parents’ friends who’d like to do the same. He’s not a criminal, but he is a werewolf.”

Harriet grinned broadly up at Uncle Vernon, whose face was full of horror and completely devoid of colour. Harriet turned and began pushing her cart off towards the parking lot, Hedwig giving a little hoot which sounded quite happy as well. Harriet gave a happy sigh and continued on towards the car as the gentle tune of a violin could just be heard somewhere in the distance.

## * * * *

The man leaned back in his chair, sipping the strong, black coffee as cars and people bustled by in the early Parisian morning. The sun had risen and the city was alive. The man smiled to himself before he opened his newspaper and began to read. He had enjoyed his year in Paris immensely, touching up on his French and taking in the local colour, while keeping a close eye on the newspapers.

He was sitting at a table in the back corner of the café’s outdoor sitting area. The current newspaper he was reading, printed on thick, yellowish paper and entitled _The Daily Prophet_ was being held at a slightly awkward angle as he read the article on the front page. This was to hide the fact that the image on the front page was moving.

“So here you are, after _months_ of silence…”

The voice was brimming with snide anger. The thick, American accent stood out by a mile. The man lowered his newspaper and smiled pleasantly at the speaker.

“Good morning, Waterman. Glad to see you got my message,” the man said.

The newcomer, Waterman, sat and gave his order to the young boy who stepped up to him with a pad of paper. The boy didn’t look any older than ten or eleven.

“Should be at school,” Waterman muttered as he watched the boy head off to fill the order.

“Yes, indeed,” the man replied, lying down his paper on the table and setting his white wide-brimmed fedora on top of the moving image.

“Where the hell have you been, Kinney?” Waterman snarled now, leaning in close to prevent people from overhearing. “We haven’t heard a peep out of you since you blew up that damn newspaper—”

Waterman cut himself off as he caught the title of the newspaper and gave Kinney a look that had “are you serious?” written across it. Kinney simply smiled.

“Yes, dirty business, that. But effective,” Kinney replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“And not the business we sent you here to do!” Waterman growled.

“No, it wasn’t,” Kinney replied casually.

“We hired you to procure those children to keep their parents’ mouths _shut_ ,” Waterman went on. “You have not done so, you have not even attempted to do so.”

“No, I have not, Mr Waterman. And to be frank, I have no inclination to do so.”

“What?” Waterman blinked.

“I have better things to do with my time and your money than the petty task of terrorizing a handful of teenagers,” Kinney replied. “Your ultimate goal was to weaken Britain’s resolve to get involved in the conflict. I did so. Can’t you see the pointlessness of the mission you gave me? The frivolity of it? ‘ _Oh poor us, a few parents are tugging people’s heartstrings. Whatever shall we do?_ ’”

Kinney took another sip of his coffee. “Furthermore, the disappearance of those children would be more likely to spark further resentment among the public, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t look good in the papers of Britain, of France, of Canada… not to mention the fact the children are so well guarded that it would require a very dangerous operation to get to them and it would put the lives of the children in danger… including some of your own family members if I’m not mistaken,” Kinney said. “A young Miss Danielle Waterman, I believe?”

Waterman’s eyes burned. “They are no family of mine. Not anymore…”

 _“But_ …” Kinney continued, ignoring Waterman. “One single bomb, right at the source of a multi-national media hub, and a more than necessary amount of mistrust was sewn. _‘How could the Ministry have kept this from us? How could the Ministry have allowed him to escape?_ ”” Kinney’s smile grew. “Please, Mr Waterman, leave the political subterfuge of your war to me.”

Waterman glared and was about to respond when the boy returned with the coffee.

“Merci,” Waterman grumbled in sloppy French but did not drink yet.

“So you ignored our orders completely and then just lived out a quiet life here for a year on our dime!?” Waterman growled even more angrily as they boy bowed and departed.

“Yes, it would seem I did. Not that I was needed. Britain had its own troubles going on while Black was on the loose, didn’t they?” Kinney said. “Unfortunately, it seems he has turned himself in and is going to stand trial. While the trial will distract the public, sadly their sense of fear will decline. And when that happens, their attentions will begin to drift elsewhere. So, at last, I will have to remind them that I am around.”

“What are you getting at?” Waterman asked.

Kinney lifted his hat. Underneath was a picture of a group of men and women in robes, shaking hands and smiling at the camera, underneath the headline:

 

_Quidditch World Cup Final to be Hosted in Britain_

Waterman blinked. “You’re going to do another bombing?”

“Funnily enough, no,” Kinney said, pleasantly. “They’ll be expecting it. I have something more… subtle… in mind.”

“Subtle, you?” Waterman snorted.

Kinney ignored the slight. “Your coffee is getting cold, Mr Waterman.”

Waterman grumbled and took a sip of the coffee. It was strong but surprisingly good for what he’d had so far in France.

“Almonds, interesting,” Waterman said studying and sniffing the cup before taking another sip.

Kinney smiled. “Anyway, as I said. I’m going to do something more subtle. I can heap a strong helping of trouble upon Britain with a single curse.”

“A single curse?” Waterman asked, astonished.

“Yes,” Kinney replied. “A famous Muggle writer once wrote, ‘ _It’s strange, I think, all of us have seen so many dead in the war and we know that over two million of us fell uselessly–why, then, are we so excited about a single man, when we have practically forgotten the two million already? But probably the reason is that one dead man is death–and two million are only a statistic._ ’”

Waterman shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Of course not,” Kinney said. “Remarque was the writer. It’s better known as being credited to a great Muggle leader, Joseph Stalin, as ‘ _a million deaths is a statistic, a single death is a tragedy_ ,’ though that’s incorrect. It does not _exactly_ fit the context, but what Remarque was commenting on was human nature. We can forget millions of deaths in events like war, but kill one person, everyone can grasp the tragedy.”

“So you’re going to kill just one person?” Waterman asked. “At the World Cup?”

“Two, actually. One at the Cup, which I’m sure will cause a spectacle. The other will be more subtle, but necessary nonetheless,” Kinney said sipping his coffee, finishing it.

“Dare I ask, who?”

“Ah now, Mr Waterman… you don’t want me spoiling the surprise?” Kinney replied.

His smile and tone had not changed, yet somehow Waterman couldn’t help but get a bestial feeling from Kinney as he spoke.

“And now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr Waterman, I have to get my affairs in order for a return to Britain.”

Kinney rose, picking up his hat and newspaper with an almost cheerful flourish, swinging his hand over the table, passing it over Waterman’s coffee cup. He had a certain spring in his step as he placed his hat smoothly onto his head and tucked the paper under his arm. Waterman snorted and took another sip. Strangely, the taste of almonds seemed to have gone.

“Oh, and I’m afraid, Mr Waterman… your services are no longer needed.”

“What?” Waterman asked.

Kinney heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Yes, sadly I need to send another message to your leaders about what happens when I am not given free rein to carry out my missions. Your death will do nicely.”

“My death?!” Waterman stammered.

Kinney simply smiled as he watched Mr Waterman’s eyes widen and his pupils contract. He clutched his chest, his breathing becoming shallow. Kinney simply turned and without another word walked away as Waterman began heaving, unable to breath.

Kinney’s grin grew as he heard the crashing of chair and table, the smashing of glasses behind him as Waterman went into convulsions. People cried out but Kinney kept walking. The spectacle of Waterman’s death would distract everyone from his disappearance.

“Well done, Papa.”

The boy who had taken the drinks seemed to materialize at Kinney’s side.

“Ah, not as well done as you, my boy,” Kinney said putting his arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“The spring worked then?” the boy asked looking at Kinney’s wand-hand.

“Perfectly,” Kinney said, revealing his wand attached to a spring loaded mechanism.

It was one of his simpler assassinations, a single bitter almond placed in the bottom of the cup and transfigured into prussic acid with a single swipe of his wand. He favoured simplicity. There was a certain beauty in simplicity. That was largely why he didn’t like the original plan. Capturing a handful of kids, keeping them held, finding somewhere secret enough to hold them while still finding enough food and supplies to keep them alive, all the while hurting or killing those that he needed to if the parents didn’t listen. It was too tedious for too little of gains.

“So we’re off to Britain then?” the boy asked.

“Yes, we leave tonight,” Kinney said.

“Good,” the boy said. “Paris is boring.”

“Ah, Gideon, Gideon… someday I will get you to appreciate the finer points of life.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. Kinney chuckled.

“Now, get back to the hotel and begin packing. I’ll procure our passage.”

“Yes, Papa,” Gideon said and ran off.

Kinney smiled off after his son. He stepped into a nearby alley, gave his wrist a twitch to spring the wand into his hand, and swung his arm in a graceful arc, vanishing with a loud crack.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Holly Potter and the Animagus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872608) by [cheesew97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesew97/pseuds/cheesew97)




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